Bambu - The Morning After lyrics

What up gangstress?
My head pounding like a mugg
Been at the bar all night, you know
Chopping it up by the third or fourth cup
Of Hennessy I was bent
And now I'm glad about
My past relationships again but ahhh
I got off to thinking 'bout us
People's Park, Venice Beach
New York City and stuff
Your red pumps to your Vans
My shank in your bag
Put my hand in your hands
Because my airplane land
Go act through the town over
The bridge to your house
In a 4-1-5, sucker free, no doubt
I fucked up being right there
When I should've been here
Now right there's a regret and
You the truth my dear
I ain't gon' fuck this up I swear
Now I dare for the girl who let's
Me keep her pistol under my chair
I wear my Dodger fitted just
To see your face pout
But, I love it when you smile and
Flash the gold in your mouth and I

I love it when you love me like this
I love it when you love me like

Let me kiss your tattoo
Put my arm around your waist
Put your lips up on my ass face
On my side of the bed
Go 'head punch me in the stomach when
I push you off the edge
Mama was a rolling stone
Bucky up when he hear that
Raspy tone on the phone
On the road when I'm out I
Know it's hard on your heart
Late sessions out recording
Keep us always apart
Off the Bart, Balboa Park, Brazil or Madrid
We can chill in the crib
Hit club Milk or club Six
Or just sit, light up a swish
My girlfriend Chris
Miss LA on a song, gon' play for our kids
I'm still a little hung over
And a lot more sober this the morning after
I'm just happy that I know ya
And I never take for granted that
You here with me now
And I'm reminded when you smile and
Flash the gold in your mouth and I

My ghettoized eyes find I'm hypnotized by
My lover my reminder why I need me a rider
Why I need you right beside a
Man who fights for our country
Because you come from where I'm from
You organize just like me
No sleep till Brook nam if it's me and you
I'm cool wherever I put my foot on
My biggest fan my supporter
My endorser my friend
Buckle up, stomp it back, we at it again
The journalist that'll document the
Struggle we in
And if you need with the speed
I'll put a fist to a chin
L bombs on the LOVE hater movement
I'll be there for you to help
You with whatever you in
You got a soldier home girl, best believe
Who get sad every time I pack
My things up and leave
When the Feds come knocking on
The door of your house
I know you ain't gonna show 'em any
Of the gold in your mouth