Lyrics Tellin Ya (feat. Lil PJ) - Lil Gotit , Lil Pj

I'm tellin' ya
I'm tellin' ya
(Ooh, Dilla)

Porsche 911 (911)
Maybach coupe, I'm tellin' ya (I'm tellin' ya)
Big backend, I'm tellin' ya (I'm tellin' ya)
Trappin' just like Belly (for real)
I keep guns like Belly (hood Baby)
This is foreign, not a Chevy (hood Baby), uh
Sound like Kid Cudi (baby)
Smoke exotic with my buddy (woo)

He so cap, I'm tellin' ya (let's go)
Make me don't trust nothin' (hm)
Found my gold like treasure (hm)
VVS grill when I be cussin', yeah
I'm so slime, can't trust me, huh
Snakes in my grass, don't cut it, though
Drag racin' in them Trackhawks (crack)
I'ma tell ya (let's go)

I'm so slime, draw, win, or lose
My bitch got honey, Winnie Pooh
Spent a couple thousand on some brand new shoes
Arrowhead, that's a brand new tool
Jet to the sky, we gettin' so high
We so private, can't tell our moves
Load up some sticks then we slide
Guarantee you make the news

Virgil Off-White, I can drip all night
My bitch got head, yeah, that dyke
Her pussy pink and it's tight
Me and 20 niggas, we fucked her twice
We come in two like Mike and Ike
Make it rain in the club, that's a alibi
Put her down, she don't know what's right

I don't see no evil
All I see is a lot of commas and they b-rolls (racks)
Told PJ, "It gon' be a lot of people" (lot of rats)
Nah, we ain't worried, we got that lethal (rawf)

Porsche 911 (911)
Maybach coupe, I'm tellin' ya (I'm tellin' ya)
Big backend, I'm tellin' ya (I'm tellin' ya)
Trappin' just like Belly (for real)
I keep guns like Belly (hood Baby)
This is foreign, not a Chevy (hood Baby), uh
Sound like Kid Cudi (baby)
Smoke exotic with my buddy (woo)

He so cap, I'm tellin' ya (let's go)
Make me don't trust nothin' (hm)
Found my gold like treasure (hm)
VVS grill when I be cussin', yeah
I'm so slime, can't trust me, huh
Snakes in my grass, don't cut it, though
Drag racin' in them Trackhawks (crack)
I'ma tell ya

Yeah, I came from the hood with all of the bros
You know I'm gon' ride with my gang, yeah
I just want the money, I just want the big bag, yeah
Fuck all the fame, yeah
I came from the mud, yeah, I came from the trenches
The 30 go out with a bang
Ride around, they gon' know my name
Might pop me an Addy, I stay in my lane, yeah

Double C's, huh, yeah, Chanel the kicks, yeah
I might go Louis or I might go Prada, shit
Mismatched fit, yeah
Big body AMG with them tints, yeah (skrrt)
We gon' ride with them sticks, yeah
Got it on my own, I had to grind
Naw, they ain't give me shit (no, no, no, no)

Hotbox crew, young nigga shit, yeah that Fox Five gang
2015, I was hell, yeah, I was thuggin' with that thang
Hang around with them real ones, I swear I made a name
From bandos, condos, Panamera for the rain

Porsche 911 (911)
Maybach coupe, I'm tellin' ya (I'm tellin' ya)
Big backend, I'm tellin' ya (I'm tellin' ya)
Trappin' just like Belly (for real)
I keep guns like Belly (hood Baby)
This is foreign, not a Chevy (hood Baby), uh
Sound like Kid Cudi (baby)
Smoke exotic with my buddy (woo)

He so cap, I'm tellin' ya (let's go)
Make me don't trust nothin' (hm)
Found my gold like treasure (hm)
VVS grill when I be cussin', yeah
I'm so slime, can't trust me, huh
Snakes in my grass, don't cut it, though
Drag racin' in them Trackhawks (crack)
I'ma tell ya