lirik lagu 11a.m inna yo – lonzo da menace
[intro]
yeah (smitty, smitty)
sit back, count up a fifty, i’m gettin’ head, i d*mn near lost the count
you ain’t got no ass or titties, you on your period, you gotta bounce
[chorus]
plus this b*tch all on my d*ck, she tryna f*ck me for some clout
arp, it clear the crowd, frrah, frrah, b*tch, get down
and this four*five get too loud, you blow this b*tch, it shake the house
don’t want his b*tch, she get around, what you want? b*tch, we got drank
i got ksubis, pockets full of blues, i ain’t even touch the bank
let lil’ bro clutch on the wheel, police get up on us, we get away
don’t hit my phone, b*tch, ain’t no deals, yeah, i do some, but not today
one chop, three glizzies, throw the wraith
too high on x, look at my face
[verse]
who the f*ck is dude? i don’t know you, n*gga, get the f*ck up out my way
n*ggas be tuff on the ‘gram, that sh*t don’t last long, that sh*t ain’t affect my pace
put clay on his ass, can’t run from my ace
tryna f*ck from the back, i ain’t doin’ no dates
high*speed, do the dash, they ain’t even finna chase
hot sh*t in his ass, we ain’t leavin’ no trace
murder for bags, we murder for cake, murder for tags, we murder for pape’
ain’t savin’ no hoes, i ain’t wearin’ no cape
no drama with b*tches, i’m pourin’ an eight
two hundred a line, the f*ck did you think?
ain’t think we’ll slide, the f*ck is you thinkin’?
culver’s deluxe, need mayo and bacon
catch him in traffic, we hop out and bake him
car full of bullets, they had found his sh*t flipped up
high*speed on the jakes, i had took they ass in a pickup
d*mn, it’s six in the mornin’, me and smitty at the strip club
phone keep ringin’, it’s a opp baby mama, she beggin’ me to get picked up
[chorus]
plus this b*tch all on my d*ck, she tryna f*ck me for some clout
arp, it clear the crowd, frrah, frrah, b*tch, get down
and this four*five get too loud, you blow this b*tch, it shake the house
don’t want his b*tch, she get around, what you want? b*tch, we got drank
i got ksubis, pockets full of blues, i ain’t even touch the bank
let lil’ bro clutch on the wheel, police get up on us, we get away
don’t hit my phone, b*tch, ain’t no deals, yeah, i do some, but not today
one chop, three glizzies, throw the wraith
too high on x, look at my face
[outro]
sit back, count up a fifty, i’m gettin’ head, i d*mn near lost the count
you ain’t got no ass or titties, you on your period, you gotta bounce
plus this b*tch all on my d*ck, she tryna f*ck me for some clout
arp, it clear the crowd, frrah, frrah, b*tch, get down
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