Lyrics
(D-D-D-Div, don't do it to 'em) yeah
bitch, yeah
Yeah (Comethazine in this bitch, nigga, I'm piped the fuck up)
Bitch, yeah
Five-hundred hours
Five-hundred hours, I've been up in this bitch, nigga
You know what the fuck goin' on, nigga, no sleep, nigga
Yeah, bitch (bitch), ayy (yeah)
Five-hundred hours (mmm)
Mmm
Still ain't been sleep, PTSD (bitch)
Bitch, don't stress me
Ho, you gotta leave before shit get messy (go)
She said, "Why I gotta leave after you undressed me?"
Made up a lie so the ho don't press me
Told that bitch, "I gotta go pick up my jetski"
Bitch up her ass, 'cause she come wit' me (no)
She sound silly, so I burst out laughing
I'm about to make this ho regret what she asked me
Really wanna know if you can go, bitch, hell no
Wouldn't save a ho if she broke her elbow
Nigga hit my phone talkin' tough, oh hell no
First of all, nigga, what the fuck you yell for?
Secondly, question be, "Do you know who you yellin' at?"
Tell him that, Comethazine blew his melon back
I smoke Thrax, you inhale on the Reggie pack
Bet you probably wonder, "How does he know that?"
'Cause every time you smoke around me, I be smellin' that
Nigga hit my phone talkin' tough, oh hell no
First of all, nigga, what the fuck you yell for?
Secondly, question be, "Do you know who you yellin' at?"
Tell him that, Comethazine blew his melon back
I smoke Thrax, you inhale on the Reggie pack
Bet you probably wonder, "How does he know that?"
'Cause every time you smoke around me, I be smellin' that
'Cause every time
'Cause every time
You smoke around me
You smoke around me
Five-hundred
Fi-Fi-Fi-Fi-
Five-five-hundred hours
Still ain't been sleep, PTSD (bitch)
Bitch, don't stress me
Ho, you gotta leave before shit get messy (go)
Five-hundred hours
WRITERS
Divjot Anand, Frank Childress, Piero Umiliani
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
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