เนื้อเพลง Know Me - Nav

Balenci (hmm), shoe size on my toe
They Know Me (hmm), everywhere I go
Codeine (hmm), double cup make her toast
Got rackies, getting bags coast to coast
Elliot lit my wrist up
Diamond rings cover my fist up
After she s*ck my d*ck (what), she get kicked out, get kicked up
I ain't cuffing that b*tch (no), that ain't on my agenda
Met that b*tch in LA, but I f*cked her in Atlanta
30 pointers in my chain, going fast in my own lane
Like Gunna, I drip insane
Make a smart girl give me brain
Let the perkys kill my pain
Break a hundred, tell her keep the change
Now the Gucci store know my name
Hottest brown boy in the game

Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin', VVs hit like this, bing
I just wanna f*ck, no kissin', peasant b*tches can't kiss kings
(Yeah) No cash register, pockets on ching ching
(Yeah) Might've f*cked that b*tch, but she ain't my ting ting
Let that b*tch sneak her snap, let her boyfriend know she with me
Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hittin'
(Yeah, bling bling) No cash register, pockets on ching ching
(Yeah, ching ching) Might've f*cked that b*tch, but she ain't my ting ting

I'm TT (hmm), rolling up the dope
Bad b*tch freaky (hmm), grab the b*tch by her throat
Ice my pinky, AP flooded I need a boat
Get shot like Ricky (hmm), taking a brown boy for a joke
Gucci stripes all on me, cost me 80 for one sock
First time I tried to cook it, lost my RILP inside the pot
See 12 and I always book it, had a dream I was in a cell
380 racks can book me, you know all my tickets gon sell

Balenci (hmm), shoe size on my toe
They know me (hmm), everywhere I go
Codeine (hmm), double cup make her toast
Got rackies, getting bags coast to coast
Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin', VVs hit like this, bing
I just wanna f*ck, no kissin', peasant b*tches can't kiss kings
(Yeah) No cash register, pockets on ching ching
(Yeah) Might've f*cked that b*tch, but she ain't my ting ting
Let that b*tch sneak her snap, let her boyfriend know she with me
Say I look like a snack, diamonds on baseball bat, they hittin'
(Yeah, bling bling) No cash register, pockets on ching ching
(Yeah, ching ching) Might've f*cked that b*tch, but she ain't my ting ting