K Suave and Trippie Redd - You Know It

Ring around the rosy
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down
La, la, la, la, la-la-la, la-la-la, la
Hey, uh
Yeah, uh, ayy

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

Pour up, four up, pour more up
No love, smokin' gas, smell like throw up
These niggas wanna be me when they grow up
Opposition wanna diss gang hopin' that they glow up
Consequences to the damn streets, nigga, go and pick your bro up
It could be your mama or your auntie, nigga, bullets got no love
Everybody wanna ring my line since I done glowed up
Tell them motherfuckers I ain't got time, meetings to my shoulders
Everybody get the damn decline, I don't pick the phone up
All my bitches stand in single file lines like some damn soldiers
Stand attention
How that's your bitch but she stay in my mentions?
She come for the stuff, put my dick in a different dimension
Know that my fingers be itchin', palms is itchin'

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

I keep them pistols close
Can't fuck with niggas 'cause they ass too broke
She just popped a Xan' and it got her movin' slow
Spent nine hundred on the drank I just poured
I love shovin' my dick down her throat, make her choke
Even though I made it out, bitch, I'm still in the trap
Bad bitch wanna fuck me 'cause she know I got racks
Housekeepin' came in and just clean up the mess
Been here for two weeks, why you askin' where I'm at?
Damn, fucked this lil' one bitch from the southside tryna set me up but I ain't lack
Bitch, my life amazin', suite life on deck
Ballin' hard, baby, Mitchell & Ness
I got money comin' in, so why would I stress?
He had a vest on but got hit in the neck
Stick on me, stick on Kobe, shootin' everything, yeah
She say I get romantic when I'm off that lean, yeah
After we eatin' Bossanova
Hundred thousand on my neck, got me colder
Bitch, 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
Drippin' too hard, baby, I been glowed up

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

Written by:
Kevin Gainer, Michael Lamar White II

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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