[Remixed by Sango]
Part 1: "Sorry Not Sorry"
[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller]
I used to think about how you would act when a n*gga got money
Now you done switched up on me
Now you wanna say "What's up?" to me
Okay, so now you wanna make love to me
[Hook: Bryson Tiller]
Girl if you don't get the f*ck from me
I know you thought we had somethin' special
But you don't mean nothin' to me
Girl I'm sorry, you not the one for me
[Verse 2: Bryson Tiller]
Just be honest, girl, what you want from me?
This ain't nothin' new, keep it so 100
I can't let none of these n*ggas get one up on me
I go by God-Tiller, you better run from me
Give hope to my n*ggas, them n*ggas love money
Adios to them b*tches, can't get a hug from me
I'm high on life, that's what it does for me
My numbers goin' up, I feel a buzz comin' (one up)
[Pre-Hook: Bryson Tiller]
Young n*gga, young n*gga
Your friends bad too?
Then tell 'em come with you ('cause I'm on n*gga)
And we like, b*tches with they own sh*t
We don't like gold diggers
[Cassette change]
Part 2: "Sober Thoughts"
[Verse 3: Goldlink]
We fight tomorrow then we f*ck again
I f*ck her homie, she find out
And then she f*ck my man
Then I hit her and I tell her she a piece of sh*t
Then she call the cops and say
"You always make me sick"
Then we f*ck again, we make it up
And then we're back to where we used to be
And usually, it take like two or three
Sometimes it last a week
Then we fight again, then I f*ck her friend
This cycle never ends
That same little n*gga yelling out that west side
Was that same motherf*cker in that drive-by
West side till I motherf*cking D-ie
East side get the love when I get high
Pop bottles and I forget you even exist
Rarely at the cathedral, throw up the Panther fist
Baby girl doing better with a star now
When I'm so deep in her pus*y
Make a star child