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Taylor Bennett - Nobody Tell A Name Lyrics



Taylor Bennett - Nobody Tell A Name Lyrics
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[ Featuring Raury ]

Yeah, uh

You don't need to wonder if I blow
There's alot of it
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
Technicolor platinum silver golds on my front some shit
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
East Atlanta, South Chicago flows
Yeah we run this shit
Don't you even front 'bout it
Don't you even front 'bout it

Throw the peace sign, there's nothing I be high
As two-pilot propeller planes
Got hella flame for the f*ckboys that sell they fame
The pigs come round', nobody tell a name
Nobody tell a name, nobody tell a name
The pigs come round', nobody tell a name

My bitch bought me a Gucci shirt
I'm turnt up like Lil Uzi Vert
F*ck with me you might get murk
My clique draped in all type of fur
My lil bro moves all types of work
My gang out here, my gang out there
I'm with them hoods that you can't go
Atlanta like my second hoe
My side bitch if we technical

No nigga this fresh you know
Dressed like a professional, turquoise on my necklace though
You be on that west and coast
Always on the dash you know, sorry I ain't checking though
I'm just out in Texas though
Meetin Texans, sext these hoes
I'm not even flexing though
It's just my confessional, it's just my confessional

How a nigga move so professional
With an extra hoe?
I'mma let you know
Getting money like I never seen a check before
Getting blessed like I've never ever stressed no more
Putting bitches on me never getting dressed no more
I don't even send the a text with address no more
She running with the dough I finessed that hoe
Like oowah
Young nigga savage
Pressed on your backstreet
With a thick chick
She looking like an athlete
In the ave-y
Saying thick ass Ashley
I'mma pass her that
Stick like track meet
My boys don't sing
But they BackStreet

You don't need to wonder if I blow
There's alot of it
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
Technicolor platinum silver golds on my front some shit
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
East Atlanta, South Chicago flows
Yeah we run this shit
Don't you even front 'bout it
Don't you even front 'bout it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Yeah, uh

You don't need to wonder if I blow
There's alot of it
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
Technicolor platinum silver golds on my front some shit
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
East Atlanta, South Chicago flows
Yeah we run this shit
Don't you even front 'bout it
Don't you even front 'bout it

Throw the peace sign, there's nothing I be high
As two-pilot propeller planes
Got hella flame for the f*ckboys that sell they fame
The pigs come round', nobody tell a name
Nobody tell a name, nobody tell a name
The pigs come round', nobody tell a name

My bitch bought me a Gucci shirt
I'm turnt up like Lil Uzi Vert
F*ck with me you might get murk
My clique draped in all type of fur
My lil bro moves all types of work
My gang out here, my gang out there
I'm with them hoods that you can't go
Atlanta like my second hoe
My side bitch if we technical

No nigga this fresh you know
Dressed like a professional, turquoise on my necklace though
You be on that west and coast
Always on the dash you know, sorry I ain't checking though
I'm just out in Texas though
Meetin Texans, sext these hoes
I'm not even flexing though
It's just my confessional, it's just my confessional

How a nigga move so professional
With an extra hoe?
I'mma let you know
Getting money like I never seen a check before
Getting blessed like I've never ever stressed no more
Putting bitches on me never getting dressed no more
I don't even send the a text with address no more
She running with the dough I finessed that hoe
Like oowah
Young nigga savage
Pressed on your backstreet
With a thick chick
She looking like an athlete
In the ave-y
Saying thick ass Ashley
I'mma pass her that
Stick like track meet
My boys don't sing
But they BackStreet

You don't need to wonder if I blow
There's alot of it
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
Technicolor platinum silver golds on my front some shit
On my Koji Kondo shit, on my Koji Kondo
East Atlanta, South Chicago flows
Yeah we run this shit
Don't you even front 'bout it
Don't you even front 'bout it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Taylor Bennett, Raury Tullis, Ian Lefkowitz
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., Songtrust Ave




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