Talkin' Bout (feat. Lil Herb)

Where the fuck you been at?

You ain't came to the crib in a minute

Sitting on the block while I'm looking at the clock

You ain't thought about me

You done got so tied up with this street shit

You can't even make time for a real bitch

The one that hold your weight

When you're working outta state

How you gonna play me?

Look

And I ain't even been up on the block

I'm tryna make it happen, girl, look at all my knots

And all the loud talking need to stop

You know you gonna be with me at the top

When them other bitches not

I gotta get this cake so I moved state to state

I ain't called, baby, ain't wanna rub it in your face

Tell five minute background stay up in his place

Just wait till I slide, he can to my face

Ain't nobody in the background

Why you gotta be so petty?

Heard you fucking on a bitch named Cheley

Heard you was all in her spot, giving her what I got

Man, I don't even think that you hear me

When you was in the jam I was writing them letters

Couldn't make bail, I was stackin that cheddar

But you don't even care, all you wanna do is play

All you really care about is what the guys gonna say

Why you gotta give 'em something to talk about?

Everybody got opinions but it don't mean shit to me

I set my own lane, can't no nigga get to me

If I fuck myself up, it just wasn't meant to be

And yeah, yeah, you ah hold ah nigga down

But really that's the reason why I need you around

We gonna argue and fight when a nigga leave town

But every time I come home you know I'm a lay it down

This that shit that I be talking, talking about

Shit that I be talking, talking about

Shit that I be talking, talking about

Shit that I be talking, talking about

This that shit that I be talking, talking about

Shit that I be talking, talking about

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Girl, I don't know what you talking about

Calm down, why you talking loud?

I put it all on the line when you're not around

And you complaining about hoes in another town

But you forgot all the Gucci, the Prada, Channel

Dolce and Gabbana, riding around foreign cars, Benihanas

Them hoes in the street still can't get a dollar

What's the problem?

Man, fuck that Gucci, just look how you do me

You think that designer make up for this shit?

I buy my own Prada, man, that's not the problem

The problem is you too caught up with that bitch

I need you to come home and give me that D

I need you to not leave the crib when I'm asleep

I need you to act like a man and stay true to the plan

If you ready, I'm ready, come on

Look, all this yelling and saying who wrong

Gone keep going on and on

So turn off your phone and repeat your favorite song

Just lay back and play along 'cause I'm tired of talking

You the only damn thing besides my money on my mind this often

So I'm a take my time and give you everything that I got on my mind

Till my mind exhausted

Baby, when we laying down in this bed

I'm sorry for the little things that I said

And just like that we were back where we started

Fuck the bullshit, matter fact, disregard it

'Cause I got your mine and I swear that we fine

Till I look through your phone, who this bitch on your line?

This that shit that I be talking, talking about

Shit that I be talking, talking about

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Shit that I be talking, talking about

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Shit that I be talking, talking about