lirik lagu really khalil - u cant tell me nuthin
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
tell me nuthin’
let me tell you somethin’:
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
you ain’t oil of olay. get up out my face
you buggin’
you must think i’m bluffin’
ballin’ like i’m cousins
you can’t take me out the game
i’m always in the runnin’
look what i’m becomin’
droppin’ all my grudges, yeah
they say that i’m sick, but i ain’t foamin’
b-tch i’m sudsy, yeah
my woman is stunnin’
gave her -ss a husband
slapped her on her cakes
and them things softer than a m-ffin
on my grandmama
and on my mama
i ain’t never sellin’ my soul
play me like a yamaha? no
bringing in cash now
lock it in a cash box
color of a avocado
color of the sky with no clouds
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
oh
some of y’all fools ain’t doin’ nuthin’ today
i’d be out my mind if i ain’t doin’ nuthin’ today
i know i’d be lyin’ if i ain’t spendin’ no money today
ha
h-lla f-ckin’ happy i ain’t still in that bucket today
crabs tried to grab me back down in the bucket today
tried to get snappy. i knew you was a f-ckin’ fake
huh
(mmm.)
hennessy on my mind
(mmm.)
“henny-thing can happen.”
(hmm, mmm, mmm.)
and, i got cream on my mind
(hmm.)
anything can happen
on my grandmama
and on my mama
i ain’t never sellin’ my soul
play me like a yamaha? no
bringing in cash now
lock it in a cash box
color of a avocado
color of the sky with no clouds
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“can’t-can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
(oh.)
yeah!
i don’t need n-ggas for nuthin’
you poppin’ that sh-t. bet’ not pop it in public
i earn what i get. ain’t no further discussions
you really a b-tch if you can’t tell i’m thuggin’
you can’t tell i’m bussin’
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
roll a fat ‘wood
that gas got me buzzin’. (yeah)
you can’t define what i go through
don’t give a f-ck who know you
boy, i’m still clutchin’. (boy, i’m still clutchin’!)
bidin’ my time
f-cked up the flow you keep hittin’ my line
you don’t know how i grind. (oh.)
i don’t go lookin’ for handouts, oh
i done got straight. what you said now? (huh?)
talk to me crazy, i’ll blackout (oh.)
got your b-tch sad. you done crashed out, whoa. (crash out. whoa. skrt!)
thirty six bands in a month. they start counting my pockets
you really a fan of my soul. yeah! (uh.)
you worried bout fashion. i don’t do that cappin’
i’ll bag a b-tch right in these clothes, yeah. (whoa.)
psychic -ss-ssin. your lips, they be flappin’, but
i read your mind
you a whole hoe! (yeah, hoe!)
ain’t no attaching. i won’t speak the name of no b-st-rd
find your own flow. yeah! huh! (oh!)
you mad at my soul. (yeah!)
never play me like a yamaha. no. (no. oh.)
let me tell you something:
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
“u can’t tell me nuthin’.”
nuthin’
“haha” reactions to all your brouhaha
i don’t give no f-ck ‘bout it
no, b-tch
hotter than panama
i think that’s why you mad
i don’t give a f-ck right now
no, b-tch
and, i think you noticed
and, a n-gga really gotta stay focused
so, i don’t give no f-cks ‘bout it
no, b-tch
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