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lirik lagu coy – bryson tiller

[intro]
(montage, you a fool, boy)
(chris ro$e gon’ be the reason we gon’ blow, boom)

[verse]
bustin’ out the head, boy (hang it up)
like i’m cb, i made her beg for it
now she on my head for it
she pop it like, yeah, boy
she on top like, yeah, boy
a hunnid pack, a hunnid [?], yeah, boy
tad broke, run them racks up, yeah, boy
tried the b00by and it’s packed out, yeah, boy
k!lla got a n*gga maxed out, yeah, boy
and he bound to make me black out, yeah, boy
i’ma cook whoever match now, ralph know it
and the chef know it, boy, you best know it
why they said that tiller washed whеn he kept going(huh)
man, thesе n*ggas need to stop with that noise (shh, shh)
spin a n*gga block, make him paranoid (skrrt, pow, pow)
she hit me with the wap and she very coy
know leray, she look good when i overlay (overlay)
pretty smile, gold cap with the over face (with the over face, huh)
just tell me where we going, ayy (ayy, ayy)
d*ck made her feel welcome, let her overstay (ayy)
ain’t no cappin’ bout this d and it ain’t lowercase
she be trapping, she a g, it’s like she own the place ’cause you going places (uh)
all these b*tches want see ’cause they so invasious
f*ck these n*ggas, man, it’s like these n*ggas born jaded
like i’m matt damon, b*tch, i’m going bourne jason
n*ggas think they lookin’ down now it’s more adjacent
slum tiller got the crown, b*tch, who gon’ take it?
all these drippin’ made ’em drown like it’s pourin’ rainin’
i’ma tip her ass in pounds and i got more weight
in a foreign place, girl, you done touring states
take a french pic, f*ck a portrait
popping big sh*t on [?]
don’t be timid, don’t be coy, don’t ignore fate (uh)
nah, f*ck these b*tches, you and money correlate
money spread in my hand, know you see me, yeah
spread it out [?]
stand beneath me
i’ma be superman, she believe me, yeah
girl, do that old dance, dance, dance

- bryson tiller

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