Let It Go
If you got it, then just let it show
And if you ain't about it, then just let it go
(Said)
If you bout it, then just make it gold
If you ain't about it, then just let it go
They be talking, yea but nothin' show
Dodged a 9-5, they like where he go
Yea, I bet you guess the destination
In the booth, I leave it never vacant
This shit every day, you on vacation
If ya ain't about it, why you chasin?
That's why you ain't finna last
Just accept that as a fact
I be making bitches mad
I got this and I got that
Like where you at, all in my kitchen
Never threw a brick, baby I'm dripping
(I said)
If you got it, then just let it show
And if you ain't about it, then just let it go
See me, can't you tell that I be doing well
Never take an L, stackin' trophies on the shelf
You be living hell, cant break up out ya shell
You is probably in the class sleepin till the bell
Thinkin to ya self. like
How'd I get compelled?
Lookin at me wishing that you got what he was dealt
Need me no one else, ya, never need no help
Shoutout to my pair of six, and I ain't mean no 12
Hit jams, lit fam
Pockets on Coachella cause you know I got the big bands
Got ya girl damp, she a big fan
Swimming wit the Big fish you is just a shrimp man
(I said)
If you got it, then just let it show
And if you ain't about it, then just let it go
And if you ain't about it, then just let it go
(Said)
If you bout it, then just make it gold
If you ain't about it, then just let it go
They be talking, yea but nothin' show
Dodged a 9-5, they like where he go
Yea, I bet you guess the destination
In the booth, I leave it never vacant
This shit every day, you on vacation
If ya ain't about it, why you chasin?
That's why you ain't finna last
Just accept that as a fact
I be making bitches mad
I got this and I got that
Like where you at, all in my kitchen
Never threw a brick, baby I'm dripping
(I said)
If you got it, then just let it show
And if you ain't about it, then just let it go
See me, can't you tell that I be doing well
Never take an L, stackin' trophies on the shelf
You be living hell, cant break up out ya shell
You is probably in the class sleepin till the bell
Thinkin to ya self. like
How'd I get compelled?
Lookin at me wishing that you got what he was dealt
Need me no one else, ya, never need no help
Shoutout to my pair of six, and I ain't mean no 12
Hit jams, lit fam
Pockets on Coachella cause you know I got the big bands
Got ya girl damp, she a big fan
Swimming wit the Big fish you is just a shrimp man
(I said)
If you got it, then just let it show
And if you ain't about it, then just let it go
Credits
Writer(s): James A. Oppenheim, Rex K. Rideout
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.