5x a Day lyrics

by

Stalley


[Intro: Westside Gunn]
Ayo, ayo (Grr)
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot (Luxurious fly sh*t)
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
FLYGOD

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Ayo, your dope ain't worth nothing
Pistol whip you like you stole something
I'm always drinking, roll something
Always wanna put a hole in something (Boom boom)
Contraband in the air wander
These f*ck n*ggas can't stand us
Pyrex whippin' got us living (Whip)
You get a brick, your whole block gotta chip in
Ridiculous y'all n*ggas in the way
Chain smokin', fifty sour roaches in the ashtray
I'm so focused
Cobra Clutch, the coke ferocious
My n*gga in the 60s, he be rollin'
My young b*tch, she be rollin'
Chrome 800, gotta grip it like I'm bowling
I'm sad Bradford in Minnesota
Ayatollah, fiends lying over
The God, n*gga, AZ in a Saab, n*gga (Skrr)
My shooter begging for a job, n*gga
I gotta fire room in Cobb, n*gga
Two bedroom condo in Gwinnett
Plus another condo on my neck
Run the jewels, no Killer Mike
One button got the ceiling right
Hold ya head, he'll be alright
He got another three thousand nights
He okay, the n*gga pray five times a day
He cool, he bool
[Hook: Westside Gunn & Stalley]
He pray five times a day
He pray five times a day, day
That n*gga pray five times a day, day
Yeah, correct (Blat!)

[Verse 2: Stalley]
Vans and leather in my sweat Supreme (No shirt though)
Glock 9 with the inf' beams (Bang)
Spray ya team, we can go to war
Peninsula suite, wild freaks on the floor, money galore
Bagging raw got their fingers hurtin'
My youngins tearing up the block in the Beamer swervin'
Just left Jummah, hope the prayers working
Out here reckless with the Hecklers
Ballin in the streets, they can hear the hecklers, Cuban necklace
Big medallion, pro-black, half-Italian, blessed with
Pop's features, mom's wisdom, Quran's teaching esoteric
Barbaric but the weed calm me
St. Laurent laundry, hundred Gs on me, flee homie
Not a n*gga that can breathe on me, can't get close to the God
Jet fuel in the God, me and Gunn Cheech and Chong
My shorty from Milan, parents, they from Cape Town
Started with a QP, got it up to eighty pounds
Went and got that AK, it hold more than eighty rounds
Hit the ground, pray five times a day, it still ain't enough
Try coasting through life but still in a rut
These jams got a solid touch, we be urging to bust
It's like we worship the rush of getting money
Turning n*ggas to dust, hit the mosque
Since Allah hope Allah never give up on us
I'm praying five times a day and I don't think it's enough
It just ain't enough
[Hook: Westside Gunn]
He pray five times a day
He pray five times a day, day
That n*gga pray five times a day, day
Blat!
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