Another Late Night

Album: For All the Dogs (2023)
Charted: 29
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  • (Grow up, nigga)
    Grrah, grrah, ayy
    This lil' Drizzy reppin' 'Crete, ayy
    My brother Capo from the way, he from the street, ayy
    Wanna fuck with me? Well, baby, I'm discreet, ayy

    Ayy, thinkin' 'bout this pill I took, pillow talkin'
    Shawty rinsin' Dillon Brooks, can't believe this nigga talkin', damn
    My bank account is magnolia, Milly rockin', ayy
    Weirdos in my comments talkin' 'bout some Millie Bobby, look
    Bring them jokes up to the gang, we get to really flockin'
    Or send a finger to your mama in some FedEx boxes
    Open up that shit, it's jaw droppin', really shockin', ayy
    I ain't pretty flacko, bitch, this shit get really rocky, ayy, what?
    Damn, what?
    Dirty how I did him in the Wraith, what? Say
    She actin' Hollywood, this ain't L.A., no way
    She a pretty little lie like she Shay, but that's bae
    Long as she don't lie to me, then it's okay

    It's just another late night with my bitch, ayy
    Just another late night with my bitch, ayy (with my bitch)
    And I hate to even call her ass my bitch, ayy (yeah, my bitch)
    'Cause I love that ho, don't even make no sense, right, yeah (pssh, pssh)
    Just another late night with my dawg (pssh, with my dawg)
    Just another late night with my bitch (pssh, with my bitch)
    And we ridin' 'round tryna make sense (make sense)
    Of whatever comes first, it comes next (yeah, blatt)

    Hm, hm (grrah, pssh), hm (yeah, pssh), hm (yeah, pssh)
    Hm, hm (pssh), hm (Concrete), hm
    Huh, yeah (pssh), yeah, yeah, huh (pssh)

    It's Lil Boat, I'm practically now from the 6ix (pssh, I'm from the 6ix, pssh)
    My doggy Luxxy ignorant, he from the bricks (from the bricks)
    Thinkin' 'bout this styrocup, really Wockin'
    Let her fuck on one my opps, let's see who really poppin'
    Demolition gang, pop out, yeah, we get it knockin'
    Boost a white bitch up and now she think she really poppin'
    Fuck my bitch new body, sadly, I got demoitis
    My bitch know it's us without openin' either of her eyelids (us)
    It be so pure I don't even fuck, ain't tryna raise her mileage
    You take G6s knowin' you'll never take one with pilot ('kay)
    I let her go, she fine as hell but baby wasn't stylish (yeah)
    She had big tits like Billie Eilish but she couldn't sing (drip)
    We catch the opps, don't want no apologies, just kiss the ring (mwah)
    (Brrt) yeah, ring, (brrt, damn), yeah, ring
    (Brrt) mwah, ring, (brrt), yeah, ring
    I'll support the opps before I support sippin' green ('kay)
    We up in Turks with twenty bitches, just me and my team (us)

    It's just another late night with my bitch, ayy
    Just another late night with my bitch, ayy (with my bitch)
    And I hate to even call her ass my bitch, ayy (yeah, my bitch)
    'Cause I love that ho, don't even make no sense, right, yeah (pssh, pssh)
    Just another late night with my dawg (pssh, with my dawg)
    Just another late night with my bitch (pssh, with my bitch)
    And we ridin' 'round tryna make sense (make sense)
    Of whatever comes first, it comes next (yeah, blatt) Writer/s: Aubrey Drake Graham, Deshawn Terry Jackson, Miles Parks McCollum
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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