Tko (feat. J Cole, A$AP Rocky & Pusha T) [Black Friday Remix]

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