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Jaleel Rbt - Rush Hour In Miami (feat. Chen) Lyrics

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Jaleel Rbt - Rush Hour In Miami (feat. Chen) Lyrics




Uh, aye man, let me at um

5.7, not a FN
This a Smith & Wesson
Keeping it on me while I'm chasin' bread
Gon' get them steps in
Ain't really need no chaser, Don Julio
Be my beverage

And ain't really need no talkin' down
For them times I couldn't get it
Now I'm gettin' paid comin' from days
I ain't had a pot to piss in

Can't stand to see my brothers fall
Shit, I ain't never trippin
I done drop the sauce, ain't curving no ball
Niggas ain't had to pitch in

Every time I come around
These niggas bitches flexin' for attention
How you mad at me about a bitch
She the one let me hit it

Been with real niggas since a jit
They ain't never fold or switchin
Gotta scream that military shit
When greentown the mention

Don't got no trust
If you ain't from the G
Then I can't f*ck with ya
Cut them out the picture
I don't even wait for these niggas to switch up

They say blood is thicker
But keep it real
Me and the fake don't mix up
Even off this liquor
I'ma keep my ten toes stayed down slip up

Ran it up, feeling like the GOAT
A new wave catch it then I float
Never had bread like this before
But now they see me carrying a loaf

Never stress when it's gettin' low
Cause I'd rather go and get some more
Can't take it from me cause I'm on go
Niggas scared to go toe-to-toe

They flexin', actin' hard behind a app
Don't hit me up, I ain't tryna yap
No DMs, ain't none of that
Aye real niggas, make it out the chat

Play it raw, only speakin' facts
New fit, the strap came attached
They sending shots, think I'm goin' lack
Ricochet that bitch, comin' back

Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn
Yeah Damn Yeah Damn
Damn Damn Damn Damn
Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn
Yeah Damn Yeah Damn Damn
Aww Damn

Screaming count up, count up, band up, nigga
But you owe the city, lil' nigga
Call me Chinaman with Exotic Bags
I'm just a rich lil' chigga

Unc told me I need the chill
That's why I keep the bud vacuum sealed
All money ain't good money
That's why me and y'all don't deal

I'ma spend that bag, I'ma get it back
I keep shit cordial aint strings attached
All that front shit, we ain't doin' that
Big chen in the stu and with them packs

I'm poppin' bags in the Amiri store
You niggas can't f*ck with me
Money bag in these amiri jeans
I'm colorblind and all I see is green
Man, put that shit on a triple beam

5.7, not a FN
This a Smith & Wesson
Keeping it on me while I'm chasin' bread
Gon' get them steps in
Ain't really need no chaser, Don Julio
Be my beverage
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

Uh, aye man, let me at um

5.7, not a FN
This a Smith & Wesson
Keeping it on me while I'm chasin' bread
Gon' get them steps in
Ain't really need no chaser, Don Julio
Be my beverage

And ain't really need no talkin' down
For them times I couldn't get it
Now I'm gettin' paid comin' from days
I ain't had a pot to piss in

Can't stand to see my brothers fall
Shit, I ain't never trippin
I done drop the sauce, ain't curving no ball
Niggas ain't had to pitch in

Every time I come around
These niggas bitches flexin' for attention
How you mad at me about a bitch
She the one let me hit it

Been with real niggas since a jit
They ain't never fold or switchin
Gotta scream that military shit
When greentown the mention

Don't got no trust
If you ain't from the G
Then I can't f*ck with ya
Cut them out the picture
I don't even wait for these niggas to switch up

They say blood is thicker
But keep it real
Me and the fake don't mix up
Even off this liquor
I'ma keep my ten toes stayed down slip up

Ran it up, feeling like the GOAT
A new wave catch it then I float
Never had bread like this before
But now they see me carrying a loaf

Never stress when it's gettin' low
Cause I'd rather go and get some more
Can't take it from me cause I'm on go
Niggas scared to go toe-to-toe

They flexin', actin' hard behind a app
Don't hit me up, I ain't tryna yap
No DMs, ain't none of that
Aye real niggas, make it out the chat

Play it raw, only speakin' facts
New fit, the strap came attached
They sending shots, think I'm goin' lack
Ricochet that bitch, comin' back

Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn
Yeah Damn Yeah Damn
Damn Damn Damn Damn
Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn
Yeah Damn Yeah Damn Damn
Aww Damn

Screaming count up, count up, band up, nigga
But you owe the city, lil' nigga
Call me Chinaman with Exotic Bags
I'm just a rich lil' chigga

Unc told me I need the chill
That's why I keep the bud vacuum sealed
All money ain't good money
That's why me and y'all don't deal

I'ma spend that bag, I'ma get it back
I keep shit cordial aint strings attached
All that front shit, we ain't doin' that
Big chen in the stu and with them packs

I'm poppin' bags in the Amiri store
You niggas can't f*ck with me
Money bag in these amiri jeans
I'm colorblind and all I see is green
Man, put that shit on a triple beam

5.7, not a FN
This a Smith & Wesson
Keeping it on me while I'm chasin' bread
Gon' get them steps in
Ain't really need no chaser, Don Julio
Be my beverage
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jaleel Smith, Leslie Chen
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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Jaleel Rbt Rush Hour In Miami (feat. Chen) Video


Performed By: Jaleel Rbt
Language: English
Length: 2:07
Written by: Jaleel Smith, Leslie Chen

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