Tell Em

Lyrics

Rich Gang
 ♪
 London on da Track, bitch (Rich Girl)
 ♪
 Hahahahaha (Rich Gang)
 London on da Track, bitch (what you tell 'em, Thugger?)
 I'ma pull up, eat on that pussy and dip (Rich Girl)
 I'ma keep one inside the chamber like Wilt
 Baby girl spoiled and she spoileder than milk
 And keep her on my side like a fuckin' hip
 She gon' make sure I survive, she gon' do it well
 Baby, I just want them thighs right under that belt
 She just want me to keep them lies all to myself
 Word, she gon' help me like she's Santa's elves
 She gon' look over these bitches like terms and conditions
 I'ma move her out the trenches and buy her a Bentley
 I'ma fuck her then hold on to her like she was missin'
 I'ma pull on that wavy hair 'cause it's Indian Remy
 I grab the key, she wanna ride with me
 She tied the knot so she can die with me
 She say she can do the same like it's five bitches (so what you do?)
 So I went and fired them five bitches
 She the B-E-S-T, best (she the best, she the best)
 She ride me, 200 on that pussy like a T-Rex
 I won't stop lovin' her, no way, no way, I'ma invest
 In her
 (What you tell 'em, Thugger?)
 I'ma pull up, eat on that pussy and dip
 I'ma keep one inside the chamber like Wilt
 Baby girl spoiled and she spoileder than milk
 And keep her on my side like a fuckin' hip
 She gon' make sure I survive, she gon' do it well
 Baby, I just want them thighs right under that belt
 She just want me to keep them lies all to myself
 Word, she gon' help me like she's Santa's elves
 I had to hit her from the back then dip up out it
 I don't know what it is but it's somethin' about her
 When she around she do somethin' to me, I can't doubt it
 I don't know what it is, but it's some' 'bout her
 Shawty got me fucked up, blowin' O's, no Audi
 Her ex nigga, he fucked up and I don't give no fuck about him
 But I'll do whatever when it come down to shawty
 The feds askin' questions, I don't know shit about it
 Somethin' 'bout lil shawty that I can't put my finger on
 It's somethin' 'bout lil' shawty, she rather text, she don't be on phones
 It's somethin' 'bout lil' shawty, say it, that got Rich Homie gone
 Shawty the best in my eyes and I know
 She don't do fashion and she don't even go outdoors
 Before she was ready you already knew I know
 Shawty made me sick, I'm feelin' like I got a cold
 Can't forget about my bro
 (What you tell 'em, Thugger?)
 I'ma pull up, eat on that pussy and dip
 I'ma keep one inside the chamber like Wilt
 Baby girl spoiled and she spoileder than milk
 And keep her on my side like a fuckin' hip
 She gon' make sure I survive, she gon' do it well
 Baby, I just want them thighs right under that belt
 She just want me to keep them lies all to myself
 Word, she gon' help me like she's Santa's elves (ayy)
 It's somethin' about her, Thug, it's somethin' 'bout her (what it be?)
 She got my life, I don't want no one to rob her (don't take it)
 Not Young Scooter but all she know is count up (she countin')
 I'm on her front end like a fuckin' blouse
 I'm on her head like a fuckin' bounty (yeah)
 No hunter
 But I'ma eat her like I'm hungry at Benihanas
 I'ma pull up, eat on that pussy and dip
 I'ma keep one inside the chamber like Wilt
 Baby girl spoiled and she spoileder than milk
 And keep her on my side like a fuckin' hip
 She gon' make sure I survive, she gon' do it well
 Baby, I just want them thighs right under that belt
 She just want me to keep them lies all to myself
 Word, she gon' help me like she's Santa's elves
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:03
Key
6
Tempo
91 BPM

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