NBA Youngboy – “Bad Morning” [Audio, Lyrics]

Date 2021-09-27

Category Foreign Music, Lyrics, New Music

NBA Youngboy unveils the “Bad Morning” off His new project. The song was co-produced by Lottery, Mike Laury & Dubba-AA.

Nba Youngboy Bad Morning

Nba Youngboy Bad Morning

Boosie once said during Meek Mill’s previous stint behind bars that the Philadelphia rapper would emerge hotter than ever. It seems that the same could be said for NBA Youngboy who just released a new album from behind bars. While he’s passed along messages to his fans in the months that he’s been away, his numbers on YouTube and streaming services indicate that he’s gearing up to take the industry by storm when he returns.

Just as Birdman declared NBA Youngboy the next artist to blow up, the rapper dropped off his latest body of work, Sincerely, Kentrell. Boasting 21 tracks in total, the rapper opens up the project with a statement on “Bad Morning.” Gospel organs and shredding guitars fuel the production for NBA Youngboy to offer a dose of honest reflection and bossed up flexes. It’s a song that captures Youngboy’s trials and tribulations, as well as his perseverance throughout the ups and downs.

NBA Youngboy – Bad Morning (prod. Lottery, Mike Laury & Dubba-AA

Lyrics

[Intro]
(I need to talk to Mike Laury
Yeah, you got Mike Laury)
(Dubba-AA flex)
(Winning lottery numbers coming up)

[Chorus]
I can’t quit at all, at all
I ain’t hurt (I ain’t hurt, nigga) at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow, ridin’ ’round with my bros (This is the sound)

[Post-Chorus]
Ridin’ in the Maybach, let’s go
Ten M’s up, nigga, let’s go
He a dreadhead, mhm, my bro leave him dead in front that store
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain, but it’s still gon’ flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans, but he still can’t cope

[Verse 1]
On the highway, out the window, do somethin’
Need it my way, bam, bam, shoot somethin’
He a head hunter rude boy, trust nothin’
She got a nice round bum, but can’t paint her nails
Do a hit real sick, it be cold the whole summеr
I can’t figure how she comin’, I’ma give hеr to my mama
Any minute, I’ma cut a nigga, knowin’ I’ma slime him
Everything goin’ bad, you can trust him, still time him
Niggas steady rappin’, we be shootin’ at the bitch
Sound of the stick goin’ boom when it hit
Sound of the smoke, real loud when it’s lit
Still let it off with a crowd in the midst
Black card, matte stick, I’m it
Don’t pick die if you try one trick
Right gang, but she say, “Wrong bitch”
Young rich nigga, he done took a wrong fix
Overdose, can’t shake back, no
Harbor freight, get the jack from the store
White trace, that’s a whole lotta snow
Ridin’ by my Kirk with a .30 and a pole
With a young bitch, she don’t want me, it’s vivid
But I don’t need her hand when I’m runnin’ up Benji’s
Real deal business, this real Blood business
Really spill those, dead bodies in the trenches
Real slime, that was my partner for a minute
Contract from my brother when them hollows got up in it
Dodgin’ bullets in the car when them shottas sent the men
All praise to Allah, one was dead in less than sixty
We gon’ burn ’em for real, leave ’em dead if he miss
Shooter aim when you shot at them, fuck with my bodies
I’ma foreign my engine, take lots of narcotics
Why they cookin’ ’em rocks? Die protectin’ that body
Through the house, the aroma, it cover the closet
I don’t say that ain’t it, but I still wan’ cop it
I’ma flood out this bitch to whoever come cash
Police ran in this bitch, no one say nothin’ about it
I ain’t got nothin’ I wanna do better with my life, but take narcotics with my life
Collect these bodies with your life, send it to the Most Highest
Nigga showin’ off, got it took when he got it
Nigga ran off, tell me what you doin’ ’bout it?
You don’t know off the dome shit, can’t write
With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight
Bullets started playin’ ’round with tension, got focused
Got another pack rolled up, he gon’ smoke it
Ten grand, twenty grand, all night scope
We’re up all day high, we’re up all day slow

[Chorus]
I can’t quit at all, at all
I ain’t hurt at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow, ridin’ ’round with my bros

[Post-Chorus]
Ridin’ in the Maybach, let’s go
Ten M’s up, nigga, let’s go
He a dreadhead, mhm, my bro leave him dead in front that store
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain, but it’s still gon’ flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans, but he still can’t cope

[Verse 2]
Herm steady talkin’ ’bout, “Top, just let me shoot him,” no
I can’t teach a nigga shit, I can make it out him
I ain’t need no tutor, been advanced for the road
Doped up, two or three tools, doin’ shows
Forty on my teeth and two hundred for my pole
Three hundred for my car, extra sneeze for the nose
I be runnin’ to the money soon as it reach my phone
I ain’t got nothin’ I wanna do better with my life, but take narcotics with my life
Collect these bodies with your life, send it to the Most Highest
Nigga showin’ off, got it took when he got it
Nigga ran off, tell me what you doin’ ’bout it?
You don’t know off the dome shit, can’t write
With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight

[Chorus]
I can’t quit (Quit) at all, at all
I ain’t hurt (I ain’t hurt) at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow, ridin’ ’round with my bros

[Post-Chorus]
Ridin’ in the Maybach, let’s go
Ten M’s up, nigga, let’s go
He a dreadhead, mhm, my bro leave him dead in front that store (This is the sound)
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain, but it’s still gon’ flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans, but he still can’t cope

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