[Intro: Justin Timberlake (Timbaland)]
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I don't understand it
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Tell me, how could you be so low?
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(And all in thrilling, new, living sound)
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Dammit babe
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[Verse 1: J. Cole]
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Blood thicker than water, right
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Fuck bitches, they all alike
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Stand up nigga, not the falling type
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Heart blacker than a Harlem night
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Til I met you, they say the devil wear Prada
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But I doubt it cause the Lord did bless you
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Damn look at that body
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Short bus shorty, cause it sure is special
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Cole to the rescue, never save a ho
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Hoes like to hide their behavior though
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Thought you was a down ass bitch
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'til I found that shit a couple days ago
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I was home alone, next thing I know
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That long ass verse from a song called "Control" was on
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The room got nearer, the tune got clearer
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That's when I seen the shit playing on your phone
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Girl, what is that, a ringtone
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Shit, not you too
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Man that hype done got you too
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Everybody and their momma gassed
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Even my momma asked what I'mma do
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Decisions, decisions
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In case this is war, then I load up on all ammunition
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If a nigga want problems, my trigger's on auto
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I'll make sure that nobody miss him
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Now pack up your shit, you don't believe in me
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I don't need you, I got me, bitch
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Same nigga moved to NYC, bitch
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Got a record deal and a college degree, bitch
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Two gold plaques, I produced all the tracks
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And I never ever ever lean on Jay-Z, bitch
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And after all that achievement
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Real nigga never even went and got his teeth fixed
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Now you try to play me, bitch?
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You try to fuckin' play me? I ought to knock your ass out
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[Hook: Justin Timberlake]
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TKO, I don't understand it, tell me how could you be so low
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You've been swinging after the bell and after all of the whistle blows
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Tried to go below the belt, through my chest, perfect hit to the dome
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Dammit babe
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[Verse 2: A$AP Rocky]
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All hail Pretty Flacko, bitch, celebrate it
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Had the game on lock, streets serenaded
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Now you lame mothafuckas lookin' devastated
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Bet you niggas wish you never hated, that's the devil ain't it
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Fuck that shit, he rich, fuck that shit, he this, fuck that shit, he that
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He black, he don't like blacks, fuck that shit, he wack
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Fuck that shit he raps, fuck that shit he spits, fuck that bitch
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Fuck that bitch he with, finished talking shit
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Get up off my dick
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The nonsense is synonymous with comments from the blogs about
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Menages with the gossips and the bosses, fuck surprises
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I'm monogamous and not to mention, in my closet
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Is a model chick, grimey gothic fits, trapped inside of it
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Besides it I'd deny the shit, y'all should stop the shit
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I'm the shit, not just kinda sick, the doc prescribed my shit
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Cock it, click-click, opposite, stop and droppin' shit
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'fore poppin' shit, from popular to poppin' picks to poppin' tits
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She pop her pussy, pop a Xanny, popular for compliments
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Make it rain, she pop that shit, it boosts her confidence
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Was supposed to stop this shit but spit like I forgot some shit
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Forgot the topic, I hope God forgive you, peep my common sense
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[Hook]
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[Verse 3: Pusha T]
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JT this like deja vu right?
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All this album of the year talk, niggas claiming they're the best out
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I been hot since the Purple Tape and this cuban's poking my chest out
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They keep calling on King Push, this beach chair, I'm stretched out
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My name is my name, bitch, until I'm gone and it's etched out
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I been known to blow a quarter brick on baby hairs and a messy bun
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If I make her mine, I made her mind, she fall in line and we got some
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Memoirs of a millionaire, even better I'm a reallionaire
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Alaia skirt, Fendi work, dress my baby like build-a-bear
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Fuck you know about the type of rollie, fuck you know about blowin' bands
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Bezel on it like a grand circle, diamonds in it, holdin' hands
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A1 since day 1, I sold dope and my name rung
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I sold dope where I came from and it's all dope what I made from it
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No lie, know why? Guy Fish in my bowtie
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JT up in the 3 piece and we magic baby like showtime
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She ain't know, we ain't know, try to trap her but she ain't slow
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Once she trap you with the DA flow, it's lights out, TKO
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-----------------
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TKO (Black Friday Remix)
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| Justin Timberlake |
