Know Me Lyrics - Nav

[Verse 1] 

Balenci' (Hmm), shoe size on my toe 

They know me 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 suck my dick (What?), she get kicked out, get kicked up 

I ain't cuffing that bitch (No), that ain't on my agenda 

Met that bitch in LA, but I fucked 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 

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[Chorus] 

Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin', VV's hit like Bisping 

I just wanna fuck, no kissin', peasant bitches can't kiss kings (Yeah) No cash register, pockets on ching-ching (Yeah) 

Might've fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting 

Let that bitch 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 fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting 

[Verse 2] 

I'm TT (Hmm), rolling up the dope 

Bad bitch freaky (Hmm), grab the bitch 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 

Photos 

[Chorus] 

Balenci' (Hmm), shoe size on my toe 

They know me everywhere I go 

Codeine (Hmm), double cup make her toast 

Got rackies, getting bags coast to coast 

Got two chains, my diamonds glistenin', VV's hit like Bisping 

I just wanna fuck, no kissin', peasant bitches can't kiss kings (Yeah) No cash register, pockets on ching-ching (Yeah) 

Might've fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting 

Let that bitch 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 fucked that bitch, but she ain't my ting-ting