Know Me

Refrain Balenci' Hmm, shoe size on my toe They know me Hmm, everywhere I go Codeine Hmm, double cup, make a toast Got rackies, gettin’ bags coast to coast Verse 1 Elliot lit my wrist up, diamond rings cover my fist up After she suck my dick What, she get kicked out, get kicked up I ain't cuffin' that bitch No, that ain’t on my agenda Met that bitch in LA, but I fucked her in Atlanta 30 pointers in my chain, goin' fast in my own lane Like Gunna, I drip insane, make a smart girl give me brain Let the perkys kill my pain, break a hundred, tell her keep the change Now the Gucci store know my name, hottest brown boy in the game Chorus Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin', VV's hit like Bisping I just wanna fuck, no kissin', peasant bitches can't kiss kings Yeah No cash register, pockets on ching-ching Yeah Might've fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting Let that bitch sneak her snap, let her boyfriend know she with me Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hittin’ Bling-bling, yeah No cash register, pockets on ching-ching Ching-ching, yeah Might’ve fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting Verse 2 I’m TT Hmm, rollin' up the dope Bad bitch freaky Hmm, grab the bitch by her throat Ice my pinky Uh, AP flooded, I need a boat Get shot like Ricky Hmm, takin' a brown boy for a joke Gucci stripes all on me, cost me 80 for one sock First time I tried to cook it, lost my Re Up inside the pot See 12 and I always book it, had a dream I was in a cell Pay 80 racks and book me, you know all my tickets gon' sell Yeah Refrain Balenci’ Hmm, shoe size on my toe They know me Hmm, everywhere I go Codeine Hmm, double cup make a toast Got rackies, gettin' bags coast to coast Chorus Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin', VV's hit like Bisping I just wanna fuck, no kissin', peasant bitches can't kiss kings Yeah No cash register, pockets on ching-ching Yeah Might've fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting Let that bitch sneak her snap, let her boyfriend know she with me Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hittin' Bling-bling, yeah No cash register, pockets on ching-ching Ching-ching, yeah Might've fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting