lirik lagu dont speak – jonoftf
[intro]
(f*ck goin’ on, maajins?)
[chorus: jonoftf]
b*tch, don’t speak on sh*t you don’t know (huh)
b*tch, i went up on my own, man, f*ck that promo
said he wanted smoke, went to his crib, and he a no*show
rockin’ number (n)ine, holes in my shirt, like i’m a hobo
[verse 1: jonoftf]
b*tch, i’m chugging tris
i’m taking trips up to kyoto
i got a big bag on me, it stink
i don’t know why that boy tried, that n*gga know he not on my rank (yeah)
these n*ggas know that they ain’t seeing me
i got my d*ck in her neck, i can’t stop, that sh*t relieving me
all the shooters could get you dropped off, i’m outside enjoying the scenery
n*ggas be hating, i don’t know why, i just be being me
n*ggas be too f*cking see*through, no, you ain’t deceiving me (yeah)
[bridge: luisss]
grrah, grrah, grrah*grrah, grrah
grrah, grrah, grrah, skrrt
[verse 2: luisss]
b*tch, i’ma slidе with berettas and macs
gmg money, that’s rеal deal racks
i’ma drill, don’t give a fly, n*gga, these not sacks
my ex*b*tch boyfriend soundcloud wack
but i went to soundcloud, check out my stats
twenty bands up in a week, no cap
up in belize, movie’ tact
you lift them sleeves, no mac
i hit that b*tch from the back of the back
smokin’ on za, no block, that’s wraps
if that boy want a feat’, you know i’m finna tax
ice on my neck like the water, no tap
yo, any man on lexington we head tap
that b*tch is a leg if she let you tap
i must be official, i hustle and rap
since 4, felt like johnny, i slide with a gat
b*tch, i’m with jono, we back, and we better
i’m mr. hop out the spot with berettas
i feel like cam, walk up to a bank teller
i f*cked a b*tch that live up in elland
and that b*tch a leg, and on god, you can’t tell her
she know i’m a g, not talking’ bout reller
f*ckin’ his hearing, now he helen keller
f*ckin’ his b*tch, can’t make up my head up
f*ckin’ his b*tch, sayin’, “i got her wetter”
rockin’ the moncler in any weather
latina b*tch, and her name isabela
feel like b lovee, slide with 30s and be’ttas
[chorus: jonoftf]
b*tch, don’t speak on sh*t you don’t know (huh)
b*tch, i went up on my own, man, f*ck that promo
said he wanted smoke, went to his crib, and he a no*show
rockin’ number (n)ine, holes in my shirt, like i’m a hobo
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