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 d*ck (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 glistening, 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)
Mightgve f*cked that b*tch, but she ain’t my ting-ting
Let that b*tch sneak her snap, got a boyfriend, know she with me
Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hitting (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
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 Re Up inside the pot
See 12 and I always book it, had a dream I was in a cell
Pay 80 racks and 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 glistening, 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 versuri.us
Let that b*tch sneak her snap, got a boyfriend, know she with me
Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hitting (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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