Lyrics:
about it
Acting like I don't care about it
Never show my hand what they be saying 'bout us
Never show the 'Gram how we be playing 'cause I don't care
left her number
But not another word
Then she waited by the phone on Sunday evening
And this is what he heard
If your callin' 'bout my heart, it's
I just wanna fuck bad bitches
All them nights I never had bitches
Now I'm all up in that ass bitches
Mad at your boyfriend, ain't 'cha?
You
baby, I'd say
We could be a story 'bout love in a bar
Or a "What if" song on an old guitar
You ain't gotta worry 'bout showing them cards
'Cause I
Billa villa in here, pimp that's what I'm talkin' bout
Closed minded lil' children,
I write my way to a million, lookin' out the plane windows
Fuck
're headed
Come on (yeah)
The message in the chorus, you bastards got nothin' for us
The overlord is the rawest, I ain't talkin' 'bout a rental car
When
gon' big on big?
You drivin' a Jag, I'm pushin' a Benz
How you gon big on big?
What you talkin' about, we done been did
How you gon big on big?
How
worried 'bout me? You ain't here with me
'Til you prove with me you ain't innocent
I'm that lil' nigga, not spendin' them M's
I'm holdin' that shit
shit, pop that pussy like a zit
I go by the name Lil Tunechi
Your girl is a groupie
And nigga, you's a square
And I will twist you like a Rubix
Lamborghini match the yellow diamonds on my wrist
We ain't on a level to be talkin' bout my chick
She don't wanna holler, I'll still be your sidekick
I don't
Whats hannin'?
It's Gucci!
Aye Keyshia
I'm feelin' this girl man
But she ain't right ya know
What I'm talkin' bout?
Take one (take one)
Ooh (Gucci!)
game nigga
Hope ya bulletproof
Fat fuck lame nigga
Know who I'm talkin' to
Glad ya man did
You 'bout to get it too
Rest with your fam man
This
of July
Nothin' but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it, be quiet
Nothin' but real niggas only, bad bitches only
Rich niggas
matchin' with the ratchet
Lil' black weave sweatpants style, air force is actin
Jump in the 6, kicks look crisp, talkin' bout the bird
Flow through your
shit
I be on til infinity
Don't predict, bitch, what I'm gonna do
'Cause chances are I've outdone you
And most of my so called enemies
Spit your
heartless? (Heartless)
Oh, how could you be so heartless?
Talk and talk and talk and talk
Baby, let's just knock it off
They don't know what we been
blow the flute or somethin'?
I'll be up there with the guitar, she'll be up there with the flute
Talkin' 'bout do-do-do-do do-do-do, haha
Call me
made
Sara Lee with the dough, I'm talkin' 'bout the cake maid
McDonald's with the flow, served over over a billion
You've seen the video, words over
a referee, these niggas so foul
If you ain't callin' 'bout no money
Nigga don't dial
I stay on my P's and Q's
I'm ten toes down i just left from out the
U
"Fuck 'em," man, they know that I ain't scared of them
How you talkin' shit when nothin' ain't died about your cousin nem?
Quando got no filter, yeah,
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Draped up and dripped out
Know what I'm talkin', drape-
Well, it's big Bun B the baby, Mr. Woodgrain ('Grain)
With
much longer would you be mine, baby)
I know a man ain't supposed to cry
But these tears, I can't hold inside
Losin' you would end my life, you see
Cristi seems so far away
And I'm not talkin' 'bout the miles
There ain't much I wouldn't give today
Just to see one of your smiles
But I'm stuck here
talkin' 'bout "what kinda shits he on?"
You'll disappear like "poof, bitch be gone"
You think twelve gon' catch me? Gimme a break
I'm super-charged with
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