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lirik lagu talk my shit – no fatigue

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[intro]
aye!
number 3
aye, aye, aye
tigue sh*t
heatwave

[verse]
they like tigue, “why you don’t f*ck with me?” (what?)
cause’ i don’t f*ck with no fake n*ggas (f*ck ya’ll)
i rather stand on my own and be solid, cause i’m really startin’ to hate n*ggas (facts)
you can sneak diss on the squad all day
but know that i ain’t gone’ play with ya (nah)
we can smoke you, get that fake out ya (yah)
forty’ll knock all that hate in em’
they don’t want us playin’ with poles
blowin’ at n*ggas, start playin’ with souls (ahh)
i’d rather be playin’ with hoes, bending her over, she put on a show (she nasty)
dance like a stripper, but i won’t tip her, just let her climb on this pole (aye)
won’t tell i love her, just tryna’ f*ck her, something she already know (aye, aye)
she like johnny, she clapping like bravo
no panties, she nasty, she think she [?]
she want a n*gga that lead, don’t follow (okay)
i wanna b*tch that’s real, no model (okay)
flyer than crypto
shine like a disco
that’s why them b*tch n*ggas p*ssed tho (mad)
i be to lit tho, best keep your b*tch close
i might sing to her like sisquo (thong, thong, thong, thong)
play around, headshots like the [?] (aye)
all them n*ggas, they fake, they all props (fake)
i be clean, i’m smooth, no bald spot (smooth n*gga)
you know wassup, i call shots (wassup n*gga)
it’s fge, we all hot (we hot n*gga)
i know you mad, cause’ y’all not (i’m not n*gga)
my flow sick, need cough drops (aye)
i’m gone’ do me, b*tch off top (whoo)
i look like cash money, mannie fresh whoa (whoa)
bling bling on a b*tch, watch my neck glow (whoa)
you alseep, on a n*gga, get your rest tho (yo)
i do me, i’m not worried bout’ the next no (no)
if a n*gga want smoke, we got the best smoke (smoke)
no rebound catch a shot, take his breath, whoa (whoa)
after [?], he gon’ die, he on death row (whoa)
f*ck his b*tch, need a mop, it’s a wet floor (oh)
p*ssy good, l!ck my fingers like the rest gone (aye)
then i’m on to the next, like the next song (aye)
grind mode everyday until my cheque long (aye)
on the road to success, gps whoa (aye)
aye, i know that you was a f*ck n*gga (fraud)
you don’t f*ck with fge, huh, i can’t f*ck with ya (squad)
i don’t do friends, that’s how my cousin died, i knew not to trust n*ggas (mmh, mhm)
seen n*ggas die since i was a youngin’, and i won’t become n*ggas (mmh, mhm)
i rather ride with that gun with him (whoo)
i’d rather up and let somethin’ hit em’ (brrr)
say he got heart, but ain’t none in him (none)
i see you frontin’, can’t f*ck with him (frontin’)
you know that we want that get back
shots hit his face [?] (ugh)
then i go chill like a kickback (ugh)
you ain’t my type, b*tch get back (get back)
take care of fam and get to the money, you know i’m with that (i’m with that)
if you ever did me wrong, b*tch, i won’t forget that (mmh, mmh)
i see n*ggas mimic the drip, aye, can i get my drip back?
and if your b*tch can f*ck with gang, just know you won’t get your b*tch back

[outro]
tigue sh*t!

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