paroles de chanson 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
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