Trippie Redd

"You Know It"

[Intro: Trippie Redd]
Ring around the rosy
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down

La la la la lalala lalala la
Hey, uh
Yeah, uh, ayy

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Drip too hard
Don't get too close, chopper close, my pistol close
Know I keep them missiles close
Your b*tch love me, that's for sure
Hundreds on me and you know
Get the bread, count the loaf
Your b*tch with me, that's for sure
You know, yeah, uh, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, you know it

[Verse 1: Trippie Redd]
Pour up, four up, pour more up
No love, smoking gas, smell like throwup
These n*ggas wanna be me when they grow up
Opposition wanna diss gang hoping that they glow up
Consequences to the damn streets, n*gga, go and pick your bro up
It could be your mama or your auntie, n*gga, bullets got no love
Everybody wanna read my lines since I done glowed up
Tell them motherf*ckers I ain't got time, meetings to my shoulders
Everybody get the damn decline, I don't pick the phone up
All my b*tches stand in single file lines like some damn soldiers
Stand attention
How that's your b*tch but she stay in my mentions?
She come for the stuff, put my di*k in a different dimension
Know that my fingers be itching, palms is itching

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Drip too hard
Don't get too close, chopper close, my pistol close
Know I keep them missiles close
Your b*tch love me, that's for sure
Hundreds on me and you know
Get the bread, count the loaf
Your b*tch with me, that's for sure
You know, yeah, uh, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, you know it

[Verse 2: K Suave]
I keep them pistols close
Can't f*ck with n*ggas 'cause they ass too broke
She just popped a Xan' and it got her moving slow
Spent nine hundred on the drank I just poured
I love shoving my di*k down her throat, make her choke
Even though I made it out, b*tch, I'm still in the trap
Bad b*tch wanna f*ck me 'cause she know I got racks
Housekeeping came in and just clean up the mess
Been here for two weeks, why you asking where I'm at?
Damn, f*cked this lil' one b*tch from the southside tryna set me up but I ain't lack
b*tch, my life amazing, suite life on deck
Balling hard, baby, Mitchell & Ness
I got money coming in, so why would I stress?
He had a vest on but got hit in the neck
Stick on me, stick on Kobe, shooting everything, yeah
She say I get romantic when I'm off that lean, yeah
[?] we eating bossanova
Hundred thousand on my neck, got me colder
b*tch, I got range like a Rover
She say I'm mean but I'm just bipolar
I'm in them guts like an organ donor
Dripping too hard, baby, I been glowed up

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Drip too hard
Don't get too close, chopper close, my pistol close
Know I keep them missiles close
Your b*tch love me, that's for sure
Hundreds on me and you know
Get the bread, count the loaf
Your b*tch with me, that's for sure
You know, yeah, uh, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, you know it

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