Versuri NAV – Know Me lyrics
Balenci’ (Hmm), shoe size on my toe
They know me (Hmm), everywhere I go
Codeine (Hmm), double cup, make a toast
Got rackies, gettin’ bags coast to coast
Elliot lit my wrist up, diamond rings cover my fist up
After she suck my dick (What?), she get kicked out, get kicked up
I ain’t cuffin’ that b*tch (No), that ain’t on my agenda
Met that b*tch in LA, but I f*cked her in Atlanta
30 pointers in my chain, goin’ fast in my own lane
Like Gunna, I drip insane, make a smart girl give me brain
Let the perkys kill my pain, break a hundred, tell her keep the change
Now the Gucci store know my name, hottest brown boy in the game
Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin’, VV’s hit like Bisping
I just wanna f*ck, no kissin’, peasant b*tches can’t kiss kings (Yeah) No cash register, pockets on ching-ching (Yeah)
Might’ve f*cked that b*tch, but she ain’t my ting-ting
Let that b*tch sneak her snap, let her boyfriend know she with me
Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hittin’ (Bling-bling, yeah)
No cash register, pockets on ching-ching (Ching-ching, yeah) Might’ve f*cked that b*tch, but she ain’t my ting-ting
I’m TT (Hmm), rollin’ up the dope
Bad b*tch freaky (Hmm), grab the b*tch by her throat
Ice my pinky (Uh), AP flooded, I need a boat versuri.us
Get shot like Ricky (Hmm), takin’ a brown boy for a joke
Gucci stripes all on me, cost me 80 for one sock
First time I tried to cook it, lost my RILP inside the pot
See 12 and I always book it, had a dream I was in a cell
380 racks can book me, you know all my tickets gon’ sell (Yeah)
Balenci’ (Hmm), shoe size on my toe
They know me (Hmm), everywhere I go
Codeine (Hmm), double cup make a toast
Got rackies, gettin’ bags coast to coast
Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin’, VV’s hit like Bisping
I just wanna f*ck, no kissin’, peasant b*tches can’t kiss kings (Yeah) No cash register, pockets on ching-ching (Yeah)
Might’ve f*cked that b*tch, but she ain’t my ting-ting
Let that b*tch sneak her snap, let her boyfriend know she with me
Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hittin’ (Bling-bling, yeah)
No cash register, pockets on ching-ching (Ching-ching, yeah) Might’ve f*cked that b*tch, but she ain’t my ting-ting
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