Intro

I gotta...
I gotta...
I gotta...
I gotta...
I gotta...
I gotta...
I gotta...
I gotta...
Got a water bottle in my right lung
And the left one be dying laughing
My brain gone, on a different planet
Think I'm blessed dawg, we ain't gotta panic
Got a water bottle in my right lung
And the left one be dying laughing
My brain gone, on a different planet
Think I'm blessed dawg, we ain't gotta panic
Down for whatever, he's a go getter
I ain't down for whatever, don't talk to me
I ain't nice on the mic, man I'm bright with it
Not a nice a guy, bitch I'm Bryson Tiller
I don't eat pork but I need the fucking fries with it
I don't drink water bitch I'm ***** ****** with it
I don't pay you so don't bring tension
Hit the cat daddy 'til I get my fucking pension
Tryna do some man shit but it's not working out
Tryna write some shit down but isn't workin out
I don't sip lean but everything is okay
My bitch green, my bitch green, my bitch scream like *****



Credits
Writer(s): Arman Bakhytbyek
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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