4am In Miami (Intro)

[Intro]
(Ayy, Don, this beat dumb)

[Verse: JB Bin Laden & CEO Trayle]
Bring the mic out the booth, bitch, I'm with the brew
Send your boo get some food 'cause she with me too
I'ma bust, then I'm up, what you finna do?
Put the Tuss in my cup, then I stick and move
Ayy, don't ask what's in my cup, bitch, I'm sippin' juice
Perky pop, I just went up, R.I.P. to Juice
I ain't Bishop, but it's tucked, bitch, I got the juice
So you with them or you with us? Nigga, pick and choose
You niggas new age punks, bitch, I been a fool
They was in class, I had bags all in the school
I don't cap in my rap, all that shit's the truth
You niggas cap in the hat, call you Dr. Seuss
I don't drink, but I can call Yak, he be gettin' loose
Wintertime, I'm back up in the 'Raq, glizzy in the Goose
Ayy, and you know the switchy in the backpack, I might let it loose
Backdoor, he ain't get that back, gave that shit to you
Fuck it, give that bitch to me, I'ma hit the three
They want that old Bizzle, that 400 East
Ayy, know C4 with you, nine hundred degrees
And we'll go toe-to-toe with you, that's what it gotta be
If I go to war with you, it's either you or me
I can't let you drive me 'round, you ain't Pluto, Boogie, Snail, or Z
I ain't even wanna rap, but Trayle yelled at me
If you mad, then we can fight, but you my brother, ain't no failin' me
Makin' millions off of music, I thought 'bout Moms like what that spell for me?
It's C4 and Bin Laden, they drop bombs is what you tellin' me
That backend was too big for them to send, so I made them mail to me
Them niggas bitches, I ain't with it, I ain't buyin' what you sellin' me
And all my niggas stand on business
You niggas don't, that shit embarassing
Bitch, I ran it up, I ain't inherit it
Ten addy behind general, you just [?]
That shit from overseas, [?], not American
Ayy, bitch, you see these B's, point me to whoever better than