Lyrics:
talkin' Charles so let me get this straight
Gettin' y'all to shake, this beat at steak
Shout out Jack and Tiller, but I'm feelin' myself, I'm the best in
but it's my turn now
And it should've been my first route
Young Tiller, what the fuck was you worried about?
Who was talkin' all that shit? I'ma bury
no life, been swindlin' me and mine
They got it right, Young Tiller didn't see the signs
But Slum Tiller, gon' tell these niggas, "Come get her"
when we couldn't afford cable
That's when I knew I had to put in more labor
Niggas tryna take me out my vibe, dawg
God Tiller, God Tiller, I'm alive,
I ain't the old Tiller, my dawg
And often I get to trippin' off of the shit that I bought
'Cause I was sittin' in park, livin' in what I was
And know that you can manifest anything that you want in this life
This is Killer Instinct 2, Bryson Tiller
Young Tiller, Pen Griffey God Tiller
Whatever
One more man is gone
The good son walks into the field
He is a tiller, he has a tiller's hands
But deep down in his heart now
He's a-laid down
One more man is gone
The good son walks into the field
He is a tiller, he has a tiller's hands
But deep down in his heart now
He's a-laid down
will tell
I'm sorry
I'm Like Tiller, "I Won't Change"
Not for the money and the bitches
I don't want no Fame
So Don't talk down to me lil bitch
I don't
A for big nigga
Don't play with her Bryson tiller, don't
Different nigga oh
Different nigga
My parents ain't home
Different nigga oh
Different nigga
them other bitches I pretend it's you
Oh, you work at Kohl's, you in Dental school
Wifey now, you foldin' clothes, cookin' dinner too
Young Tiller,
nigga, I'ma keep ignoring
God Tiller, your flow so prehistoric
Got, got killers, smoke yours or put me in the corner
I'm Cassius, my nigga put me in
nigga, I'ma keep ignoring
God Tiller, your flow so prehistoric
Got, got killers, smoke yours or put me in the corner
I'm Cassius, my nigga put me in
Young Tiller, young Tiller
These are the things I'm on
Niggas see the potential
Wreck shit King Kong
Beat bot tiller, he a beat Godzilla
I'm that nigga, boy boy, told you before
(Tonight, tonight, tonight, oh)
Yeah
Tiller, word
And young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't
One more man gone
One more man gone
One more man is gone
The good son walks into the field
He is a tiller, he has a tiller's hands
But down in his
that she love me but she love the finer things
She's a
She's a tiller girl rocking that Nike hat
Got the matching shoes and got the matching bag
Yeah, huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Chris Brown, Breezy
Young Tiller, Bryson, Bryson
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, oh yeah,
put on that Tiller, she'd rather fuck me to Weezy
I remember when your money was young
And you stripped all week just to get the tan Yeezy's
Back
Hello? Yeah, yeah
Hey, how's it goin'?
How you feel?
My name is Young Tiller, Bryson, Pen Griffey
You could call me whatever
I still want you
Turn up with young Tiller, we just getting loose
Maybe, I'm low key feelin' you, don't be cynical
I'ma fuck you over, wanna fuck you over then again
know is I ain't ready to go yet
So I jump in that purple Lambo
Throw in that Bryson Tiller, "Rambo"
After that it's "Purple Rain," it's "Purple Rain"
one up on me
I go by God Tiller, you better run from me
Give hope to my niggas, them niggas love money
Adios to them bitches, can't get a hug from me
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