Tank (feat. Chris Brown & K Wales)
I might pull up in a tank, that's my ride, uh
Bentley truckin' with Jus, that's my guy, uh
Got your bitch on my lap, that's my vibe, uh (ayy)
These Cartiers fit my face and my eyes, ayy
Pullin' up deep as fuck with my mob (with my mob)
See a nigga drippin' sauce, bitch, I'm fly (bitch, I'm fly)
They don't want no beef, I see it in they eyes (in they eyes)
Come toe to toe with me, you might not survive (not survive)
This shit get ugly 'round my motherfuckin' side ('round my side)
Bitch, I'm from T Town, that's where I reside (I reside)
My niggas pull up, you know they gone slide (they gon' slide)
You talkin' tough and you end up a stripe, hey, yeah
Baby, check my Patek, yeah it's two-tone
Don't try to call me or text, got a new phone
Ain't with the back and forth, want me to put a ring on
But when she back it up, she gone take her time on my ding-dong
Pullin' and strokin' her hair
Givenchy, Margiela, Margiela, Margiela, take off your underwear
Christian Louboutins got me drippin' all the sauce
OHB, we pay the cost, you know who the boss
We don't mingle with bums, where your funds go?
Lay back, chase bucks, shit
But K Wales like Lud Foe
Pull up and run shit
I pray up, get Gusto, and say rest to Justo
I'm tied in with gangstas, know Vice Lords, know Bloods, Locs
They rowdy all the time like it's GS9
Bitch from Cali, from the Valley, go to Pepperdine
She from Saudi, push an Audi only half the time (yeah)
What she drivin' color white, it's like a powdered line (look)
Yeah, I done slid through LA in some two doors
I done pulled some old moves on some new hoes
We been up for some hours like two-four
Gettin' bucks like I'm Antetokounmpo, yeah
Niggas gon' hate, you know that
Get it in cake, you know that
Finish my plate, you know that
I ain't never gone hold back (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, I ain't never gone hold back (alright)
Feelin' like Kobe, I'm chosen
I'm tryna get shit up in motion
See a nigga on a poster (woo)
Can't keep your composure (woo)
Ride the Wraith like it's stolen (woo)
Tell your bitch come over
Too rich, never sober (woo)
Billions on my mind (yeah)
They keep me up all the time (yeah)
They keep me up on my grind (yeah)
Too high, can't reach me (reach me)
Nothing you can teach me (teach me)
Good dick got you fiendin' (yeah)
I'm hood rich, bitch, believe me (woo)
Money don't fall from trees (nah)
But I'mma ball through seasons (yeah)
I got a million reasons
Why your bitch always leavin'
I stay on her mind
I know that she gon' pick up anytime I wanna hear it
I know she sneak out late night
I get it when I want, bottom line (yeah, huh)
Sip Chandon Möet, I'm a tickin' time bomb, hold up
And I'm from where it's cold at, but I'm where it's all warm, hold up
Your OG ain't a threat, he wanna be us when he grow up
Old jawn wanna make a throwback
Split her down the middle like I'm Moses
Take a picture for the poster, how I crush linen with the loafers
Hit the plug for the gold, I love it when I mix it with the Gosha
Take off for the culture, we been playin' hard without the coaches
Standin', actin' dumb all on the couches
But they still gone call us up to host it
Need a million for the feature
Paid a million for the sneakers
Bad bitches in the bleachers
Young nigga fuckin' with the teachers
CYN and OHB now
Throwin' bands, winnin', never take a loss
Bentley truckin' with Jus, that's my guy, uh
Got your bitch on my lap, that's my vibe, uh (ayy)
These Cartiers fit my face and my eyes, ayy
Pullin' up deep as fuck with my mob (with my mob)
See a nigga drippin' sauce, bitch, I'm fly (bitch, I'm fly)
They don't want no beef, I see it in they eyes (in they eyes)
Come toe to toe with me, you might not survive (not survive)
This shit get ugly 'round my motherfuckin' side ('round my side)
Bitch, I'm from T Town, that's where I reside (I reside)
My niggas pull up, you know they gone slide (they gon' slide)
You talkin' tough and you end up a stripe, hey, yeah
Baby, check my Patek, yeah it's two-tone
Don't try to call me or text, got a new phone
Ain't with the back and forth, want me to put a ring on
But when she back it up, she gone take her time on my ding-dong
Pullin' and strokin' her hair
Givenchy, Margiela, Margiela, Margiela, take off your underwear
Christian Louboutins got me drippin' all the sauce
OHB, we pay the cost, you know who the boss
We don't mingle with bums, where your funds go?
Lay back, chase bucks, shit
But K Wales like Lud Foe
Pull up and run shit
I pray up, get Gusto, and say rest to Justo
I'm tied in with gangstas, know Vice Lords, know Bloods, Locs
They rowdy all the time like it's GS9
Bitch from Cali, from the Valley, go to Pepperdine
She from Saudi, push an Audi only half the time (yeah)
What she drivin' color white, it's like a powdered line (look)
Yeah, I done slid through LA in some two doors
I done pulled some old moves on some new hoes
We been up for some hours like two-four
Gettin' bucks like I'm Antetokounmpo, yeah
Niggas gon' hate, you know that
Get it in cake, you know that
Finish my plate, you know that
I ain't never gone hold back (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, I ain't never gone hold back (alright)
Feelin' like Kobe, I'm chosen
I'm tryna get shit up in motion
See a nigga on a poster (woo)
Can't keep your composure (woo)
Ride the Wraith like it's stolen (woo)
Tell your bitch come over
Too rich, never sober (woo)
Billions on my mind (yeah)
They keep me up all the time (yeah)
They keep me up on my grind (yeah)
Too high, can't reach me (reach me)
Nothing you can teach me (teach me)
Good dick got you fiendin' (yeah)
I'm hood rich, bitch, believe me (woo)
Money don't fall from trees (nah)
But I'mma ball through seasons (yeah)
I got a million reasons
Why your bitch always leavin'
I stay on her mind
I know that she gon' pick up anytime I wanna hear it
I know she sneak out late night
I get it when I want, bottom line (yeah, huh)
Sip Chandon Möet, I'm a tickin' time bomb, hold up
And I'm from where it's cold at, but I'm where it's all warm, hold up
Your OG ain't a threat, he wanna be us when he grow up
Old jawn wanna make a throwback
Split her down the middle like I'm Moses
Take a picture for the poster, how I crush linen with the loafers
Hit the plug for the gold, I love it when I mix it with the Gosha
Take off for the culture, we been playin' hard without the coaches
Standin', actin' dumb all on the couches
But they still gone call us up to host it
Need a million for the feature
Paid a million for the sneakers
Bad bitches in the bleachers
Young nigga fuckin' with the teachers
CYN and OHB now
Throwin' bands, winnin', never take a loss
Credits
Writer(s): Olufunmibi Awoshiley, Sandy Kasien, Kalin Jerome Wales, Cynthia Camacho
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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