lirik lagu tbs – r-mean
[intro]
scott storch
[chorus: db bantino]
something like this
say you got hitters, your shooters don’t miss (for real, what? really)
say you got hoes, but you savin’ that b*tch (okay)
you wanna show off your wrist (okay)
rollie i hear that sh*t tick (oh, no)
why you keep runnin’ your lips? (no)
wait, b*tch you ain’t talkin’ bout sh*t (sh*t)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t, oh, no)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t, okay)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t)
wait, b*tch you ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t
[verse 1: offset]
m*o*n*e*y, only thing i talk is the money (money, racks)
and we got the choppas, make ’em fire (bah)
i ain’t really feelin’ like ghandi (grrah*grrah)
ten bad b*tches tryna vibe (ten)
bet they won’t get a dime from me (bet they won’t)
i remember sleepin’ outside (heh)
i didn’t have no money i was hungry (ooh)
n*ggas ain’t talkin’ bout sh*t (nah)
audemars piguet’s the wrist (audemar)
smash the hoe but don’t trick (smash)
hit the gas, the lamb doin’ tricks (skrrt)
he a rat, we ain’t f*ckin’ with a snitch (he a rat)
grrah, scratch ’em off the list (grrah)
maison margiela when i like to kick it (margiela)
you ain’t rich yet till you get a ticket (heh)
rose gold audemars piguet (rose)
bought a bentley for the flex (flex, wooh)
got a chopper, got a tec (bah)
i got plugs and connects (plugs)
free my n*ggas on the rec (rec)
ain’t came back yet (nah)
gotta ride with a vest (ride)
you can die for respect (bah)
[chorus: db bantino]
something like this
say you got hitters, your shooters don’t miss (for real, what? really)
say you got hoes, but you savin’ that b*tch (okay)
you wanna show off your wrist (okay)
rollie, i hear that sh*t tick (oh, no)
why you keep runnin’ your lips? (no)
wait, b*tch you ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t, oh, no)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t, okay)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t)
wait, b*tch you ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t
[verse 2: r*mean]
they be askin’ for a quote, i be askin’ what the budget
they be talkin’ ’bout the smoke, i be talkin’ ’bout the nugget
seen ’em flexin’ on the gram, i’m like no papa
y’all always talkin’ that beef, but never gon’ do nada
we ain’t never heard of you
you say you from the street, but no one know what street though
we ’bout to go gold, you say your it’s all gold
but why your neck turn green though?
type of sh*t that should be illegal
motherf*ckers ain’t be talkin’ ’bout sh*t
i could tell you ain’t been punched in the lip
this a movie, yeah, my life is a fl!ck
push the cullinan, then switch to the coupe
album star studded just like the roof
these are free throws, these alley oops
i’m just sayi’g we ain’t miss when we shoot
bang, bang, runnin’ and runnin’ your lip
always got something to say, but never be talkin’ bout sh*t
[chorus: db bantino]
something like this
say you got hitters, your shooters don’t miss (for real, what? really)
say you got hoes, but you savin’ that b*tch (okay)
you wanna show off your wrist (okay)
rollie, i hear that sh*t tick (oh, no)
why you keep runnin’ your lips? (no)
wait, b*tch you ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t, oh, no)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t, okay)
y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t (sh*t)
wait, b*tch you ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh*t
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