Lies About You - Gunna feat. Lil Durk

It ain't a facade, I spent some racks on my shoes
I been goin' hard, I paid all cash for my jewels
I walked in Hermes, bought a bag for my boo
I get them blue hundreds, spread them out like a wound
Can't get you off my mind, I might die about you
My outfit cost a dime, can't control how I move
The praises to the god, don't believe in voodoo
'Cause when you at the top they'll tell lies about you

Tell everything but the truth, get nothin' but love from my crew
I guess they hate what you do, pull up in coupes with no roofs
You caught me in a good mood, can't put a spike in my groove
Got more these designer shoes
I drip, I need an award
I built that way for that Porsche, I think
I'm on a high horse
YSL, got none' but Hi-Tunes, we kill 'em off, no remorse
I gotta win, I can't lose, I'm tryna feed all my boys
Huh, I paid my dues to these hoes
I got that flame to the torch, young
Gunna ball with no court
I hit that trap and quit sports, I give all thanks to the lord
I hit that yo and record, they get that drip from your boy, mmh

It ain't a facade, I spent some racks on my shoes
I been goin' hard, I paid all cash for my jewels
I walked in Hermes, bought a bag for my boo
I get them blue hundreds, spread them out like a wound
Can't get you off my mind, I might die about you
My outfit cost a dime, can't control how I move
The praises to the god, don't believe in voodoo
'Cause when you at the top they'll tell lies about you

Man bag, guns in 'em
Track pants, run in 'em
Gorilla blue, Godzilla
We don't fuck with no nigga
How you want that Saint Laurent bag?
You ain't suckin' no dick
My lil LA bitch got jetlag, she off that coke shit
Fuck that shit, come on shawty
Fuck that Ghost, where the Rari?
None of my niggas want to party
Them young niggas want to catch a body
We ain't wifing no Chiraq thots
Threesome, them my type of thots
Vegas bitch tried to sell me pussy
Tell that ho like hell no
Main homie's bitch tried to fuck me
And she told me he don't know
If they out they won't say shit
'Cause he know he gon' get peter-rolled
And we about the violence, my young niggas be wildin'
Your baby mama be trifling, yeah yeah

It ain't a facade, I spent some racks on my shoes
I been goin' hard, I paid all cash for my jewels
I walked in Hermes, bought a bag for my boo
I get them blue hundreds, spread them out like a wound
Can't get you off my mind, I might die about you
My outfit cost a dime, can't control how I move
The praises to the god, don't believe in voodoo
'Cause when you at the top they'll tell lies about you



Credits
Writer(s): Durk Banks, Sergio Giavanni Kitchens
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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