6am Freestyle (Remix)

[Intro: Lil Yee]
Psh (CmonDarrious)
(Brutal Money)
Ayy, psh
Mm, mm, oh, oh, oh (That nigga B on the beat)
Ayy

[Verse 1: Lil Yee]
Dirty cup, dirty clip, but the whip clean (Whip clean)
And the bitch leave Yee ain't what I never seen (Never seen)
I'm probably what that ho want, but what the bitch need (What she need)
I'm a breath of fresh air, let the bitch breathe
Rick Owens, fat laces, I can't even tie 'em up
Four-by-four G-Wagen, drive it like a Tonka truck
Ice cold wrist froze, jumpin' out of sleeves (Yeah)
In and out of conscious (Yeah), in and out of sleep
Chrome Heart with twenty thousand bulgin' out my jeans
Finna skip to Maxfield, eyes on Chinese
Ching-a-ling, bada bang, bada boom, bada bing (Yeah, yeah)
It's some Tris in the pop, I ain't pour up with no green

[Bridge: Lil Yee]
Bitch, it's— (Yeah)
Get the fuck out (Get the fuck out)
Mm, mm, ayy, ayy
6 in the morning (Get the fuck out)
Ah, ah, mm, mm (I swear to God, ayy)

[Verse 2: Lil Yee]
Ayy, skippin' out the bitch house, kinda out of pocket (Yeah)
Ain't no question that I got it, but it's 'bout who first to pop it (Yeah, ayy)
I've been fuckin' up the city, sellin' pounds and pourin' Wocky (Wock')
Fifty thousand was the profit, all twenties, it was sloppy (Bro)
We the ones that put it on and make them other niggas copy
I should run off on the plug because he got my nigga coppin'
Got the Oxy from Miami, call them blues, we call them dolphins
One thing I never seen is a dead man talkin' (Yeah, is a dead—)
Bitch, it's— (Walkin', ayy)
Shut the fuck up (Shut the fuck up)
She don't try to fall in love, I'm tryna fuck somethin'
Before he walk off in the club, let me tuck somethin' (Let me tuck somethin')
And if I whip this bitch out, I'ma pluck somethin' (Frrt, frrt, bah)
I got road rage, Johnny Cage, black belt, drop kick (Drop kick)
Heard he was dissin' on the 'Gram, that's why they clapped him (That's why they clapped him)
Thirty thousand large in my pants, I'm finna cop kit (I'm finna what?)
What the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout? I already got kit (Come on, man)
Gamblin' on the next opp to die, this a live pic (Yeah, this a live pic)
He ain't gon' make it to— ha, nigga, watch this
Low reward, high risk, light skin, 5'6"
Pretty brown with some ass, I got tight shit (I got tight shit)
Welcome to the underworld, where we run night shift
If you ain't tryna cop nothin', why you askin' prices? (Shh)
I just know the kid came low from my prices
Know niggas doin' petty time and know some real lifers
Strikers, spaceships, invest in dirty rifles
These hunger games'll make you go insane, it's about survival

[Chorus: Lil Yee & Veeze]
6 in the mornin', get the fuck out (Get the f—)
Shut the fuck up 'cause this a drug house
If you ain't tryna spend a— get the— uh
Mm, mm, mm
Ayy, it's 6 in the morning (In the morning)
Ah, ah, mm, mm, mm, yeah
6 in the mornin', get the fuck out (Like right now though)
Get the fuck out (Only 6:15)
Oh, oh, ayy (Gang, gang)

[Verse 3: Veeze]
Sprite same color pink slip, yeah, I own that (Pink slip)
30K a month just on pints, call it gangrene (Ugh)
Last few niggas slept on me, took a dirty nap (Them niggas dead)
Shoppin' all in London for a week, change my accent (Bitch, I'm like you, yeah)
Pain is too deep, couple Percs can't even kill that (Yeah)
Tris syrup taste like toothpaste, I can't sip that (Ugh, uh-uh)
10K spent on Levi's with the leather pad (Frrt)
Shawty first time, five star, she eat crab backs (She a ghetto bitch)
Yeah (Yeah), but it was 4 in the morning when she told me where her crib at (I pulled up at 'bout 5)
Yeah, I heard her nigga beat her ass 'cause he see me on the Ring cam (Yeah)
We bought all the Bottega shoes like they New Balance (This shit cheap)
Drivin' like I'm on a four wheeler in this G-Wagen (Yeah)
I don't know, big bank, duct tape, brick wrapper (Yeah)
Can't be fucked with, these hoes wan' bring some action (No cap)
Yeah, I had to kick her out thе spot, can't lay up, bitch, we still trappin' (Bitch, this the spot)
Yeah, I made a hundred bag play when my folks drove from Alabama (Runnin' lights, still red, you know how it go)
Yeah, I'm on the road smokin' cigs, nerves bad with the paraphernalia (Cruise control type shit)
Yeah, I count the money when it come out the machine, I don't trust nothin' (Yeah)
Meetin' with the mob, fish eggs and some bone marrow (On my mama)
Rich nigga, love designer bags than a spoiled girl (Talk to 'em)
They welcome home when I walk inside the Chrome store (Talk)
I steal at Amazon, them hitters stood at front door (Yeah)
'Rari charged up, take gas, nigga, pick your poison (Go, nigga)
Fifty bands just on earrings, I can't hear the pointers
All my niggas look rich, nigga, look at yours
Dressin' like a gothic white boy with all Ricky on (Check them bands, alright)

[Outro: Veeze]
Gang, gang, gang, gang (Yeah, yeah, uh)
Fuck goin' on?