[Chorus: Bryson Tiller]
Homegirl in public, babygirl in private
Phone keep jumping, fuck it put it on silent
She a fashion killa, she my nigga, she my stylist
Murder he wrote in cursive, they revise it
Please, boy I said I do this shit with ease
Too trill, riding through Louisville streets
Hottest thing from it since Muhammad Ali
Gotta keep on coming, who fell off? Not me
[Post-Chorus: Bryson Tiller]
God dammit, holy shit, God dammit
Boy, boy, I said I do this shit with ease
God dammit, holy shit, God dammit
Boy I said I do this shit with ease, God
[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller]
Holy shit, God dammit
I tell these niggas I'm the man, it's
So obvious right now bro
On top, that's where I wound up
I'm skating through Miami
My flow is so Atlanta
I'm smoking on that Amster
Tiller hit that rose like Amber
Got bad bitches on deck
They all call me Captain Mo-Money
My hands full, she will hold it for me
No hand outs, get your own money
Knock knock, ho don't come in
Thumbing through some more money
This just my clothes money
Don't ask me about your money, I don't
Did it on my own, nigga you don't even know
Only smoking strong, oh my blunt game on swole
Her ass is like woah
Do whatever I please, I'm my own boss indeed
That's just how hard I go
Niggas paying for pussy, oh trust me I know
Now them hoes give it up for free
When you ain't shit they won't
Niggas keep sneak dissing Tiller on the low
If you really wanna know
Your ho my ho too she my
Homegirl in public, babygirl in private
Phone keep jumping, fuck it put it on silent
She a fashion killa, she my nigga, she my stylist
Murder he wrote in cursive, they revise it
Please, boy I said I do this shit with ease
Too trill, riding through Louisville streets
Hottest thing from it since Muhammad Ali
Gotta keep on coming, who fell off? Not me
[Post-Chorus: Bryson Tiller]
God dammit, holy shit, God dammit
Boy, boy, I said I do this shit with ease
God dammit, holy shit, God dammit
Boy I said I do this shit with ease, God
[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller]
Holy shit, God dammit
I tell these niggas I'm the man, it's
So obvious right now bro
On top, that's where I wound up
I'm skating through Miami
My flow is so Atlanta
I'm smoking on that Amster
Tiller hit that rose like Amber
Got bad bitches on deck
They all call me Captain Mo-Money
My hands full, she will hold it for me
No hand outs, get your own money
Knock knock, ho don't come in
Thumbing through some more money
This just my clothes money
Don't ask me about your money, I don't
Did it on my own, nigga you don't even know
Only smoking strong, oh my blunt game on swole
Her ass is like woah
Do whatever I please, I'm my own boss indeed
That's just how hard I go
Niggas paying for pussy, oh trust me I know
Now them hoes give it up for free
When you ain't shit they won't
Niggas keep sneak dissing Tiller on the low
If you really wanna know
Your ho my ho too she my
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