moneyatmidnight – tiied lyrics
[hook]
yea, all of these drug, they got me tired
not coming to play, you f-ck around messin’ with fire
yeah you gone get burnt, yeah you gone be singin’ like the choir
poppin’ fake pills, yea you know that them sh-ts is expired
countin’ money yea it got me tired
got my p-ssport, little b-tch, you know i’m a frequent flyer
ain’t got time for haters or no muh-f-ckin’ liars
i’m getting fried, bihh, ’cause i’m muh-f-ckin’ tii-tiied
[verse 1]
i want somebody to hump me
but dammit, i got the munchies
don’t wanna play in no crunchy
two finger check, easter bunny
but wait a minute, it takes a minute, i done just got tired
tryna leave now thinking was this even worth the drive?
to the dealership, all of this paperwork got me tiied
brand new f-cking porsche panamera, ain’t even got no miles
and like my whip, shadesrecords, yea i built the sh-t
nino brown, -“betta mind yo’ own business b-tch!”-
[hook]
yea, all of these drug, they got me tired
not coming to play, you f-ck around messin’ with fire
yeah you gone get burnt, yeah you gone be singin’ like the choir
poppin’ fake pills, yea you know that them sh-ts is expired
countin’ money yea it got me tired
got my p-ssport, little b-tch, you know i’m a frequent flyer
ain’t got time for haters or no muh-f-ckin’ liars
i’m getting fried, bihh, ’cause i’m muh-f-ckin’ tii-tiied
[verse 2]
smoking this sh-t, i’m choking, i-i think i got the wacky pack
i be on the drugs not condoning, not to boast or brag
i’m just letting you, bringing truth up to the front door
i got the pedal to the floor screamin’ go, go, go
motherf-cker go! hit it just like a head collision
didn’t i tell you, not to take yo’ head and put it in that d-mn
boy, it was your decision, mess it up just like itunes
tryna be like copy, but do not have the same software that ypu do
[hook]
yea, all of these drug, they got me tired
not coming to play, you f-ck around messin’ with fire
yeah you gone get burnt, yeah you gone be singin’ like the choir
poppin’ fake pills, yea you know that them sh-ts is expired
countin’ money yea it got me tired
got my p-ssport, little b-tch, you know i’m a frequent flyer
ain’t got time for haters or no muh-f-ckin’ liars
i’m getting fried, bihh, ’cause i’m muh-f-ckin’ tii-tiied
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