Tko (feat. J Cole, A$AP Rocky & Pusha T) [Black Friday Remix]

I don't understand it
Tell me how could you be so low?
(And all in thrilling, new, living sound) Dammit babe

Blood thicker than water, right
Fuck bitches, they all alike
Stand up nigga
Not the falling type
Heart blacker than a Harlem night
Til I met you, they say the devil wear Prada
But I doubt it cause the Lord did bless you
Damn look at that body
Short bus shorty, cause it sure is special
Cole to the rescue, never save a ho
Hoes like to hide their behavior though
Thought you was a down ass bitch
'til I found that shit a couple days ago
I was home alone, next thing I know
That long ass verse
From a song called "Control" was on
The room got nearer, the tune got clearer
That's when I seen the shit playing on your phone
Girl, what is that, a ringtone
Shit, not you too
Man that hype done got you too
Everybody and their momma gassed
Even my momma asked what I'mma do
Decisions, decisions
In case this is war
Then I load up on all ammunition
If a nigga want problems, my trigger's on auto
I'll make sure that nobody miss him
Now pack up your shit, you don't believe in me
I don't need you, I got me, bitch
Same nigga moved to NYC, bitch
Got a record deal
And a college degree, bitch
Two gold plaques, I produced all the tracks
And I never ever ever lean on Jay-Z, bitch
And after all that achievement
Real nigga never even went and got his teeth fixed
Now you try to play me, bitch?
You try to fuckin' play me? I ought to knock your ass out

TKO
I don't understand it
Tell me how could you be so low
You've been swinging after the bell
And after all of the whistle blows
Tried to go below the belt
Through my chest, perfect hit to the dome
Dammit babe

All hail Pretty Flacko, bitch, celebrate it
Had the game on lock, streets serenaded
Now you lame mothafuckas
Lookin' devastated
Bet you niggas wish you never hated, that's the devil ain't it
Fuck that shit, he rich, fuck that shit, he this
Fuck that shit, he that
He black, he don't like blacks
Fuck that shit, he wack
Fuck that shit he raps
Fuck that shit he spits, fuck that bitch
Fuck that bitch he with, finished talking shit
Get up off my dick
The nonsense is synonymous with comments
From the blogs about
Menages with the gossips and the bosses
Fuck surprises
I'm monogamous and not to mention, in my closet
Is a model chick, grimey gothic fits, trapped inside of it
Besides it I'd deny the shit
Y'all should stop the shit
I'm the shit, not just kinda sick
The doc prescribed my shit
Cock it, click-click, opposite, stop and droppin' shit
'Fore poppin' shit, from popular
To poppin' picks to poppin' tits
She pop her pussy, pop a Xanny
Popular for compliments
Make it rain, she pop that shit
It boosts her confidence
Was supposed to stop this shit
But spit like I forgot some shit
Forgot the topic, I hope God forgive you
Peep my common sense

TKO
I don't understand it
Tell me how could you be so low
TKO
You've been swinging after the bell
And after all of the whistle blows
Tried to go below the belt
Through my chest, perfect hit to the dome
Dammit babe

JT this like deja vu right?
All this album of the year talk
Niggas claiming they're the best out
I been hot since the Purple Tape
And this cuban's poking my chest out
They keep calling on King Push, this beach chair
I'm stretched out
My name is my name, bitch
Until I'm gone and it's etched out
I been known to blow a quarter brick on baby
Hairs and a messy bun
If I make her mine, I made her mind
She fall in line and we got some
Memoirs of a millionaire, even better I'm a reallionaire
Alaïa skirt, Fendi work
Dress my baby like build-a-bear
Fuck you know about the type of rollie
Fuck you know about blowin' bands
Bezel on it like a grand circle, diamonds in it
Holdin' hands
A1 since day 1, I sold dope and my name rung
I sold dope where I came from
And it's all dope what I made from it
No lie, know why?
Guy Fish in my bowtie
JT up in the 3 piece and we magic baby
Like showtime
She ain't know, we ain't know, try to trap her
But she ain't slow
Once she trap you with the DA flow
It's lights out, TKO