"Can't Tell" lyrics

"Can't Tell"
(feat. T.I. & Boosie Badazz)

[Young Thug:]
Yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah

[Young Thug & T.I.]
Niggas say they fuck with you, I can't tell
$500,000 Chevelle (Ayy)
I got bricks and birds for retail (Ayy)
I got 100,000 worth of belts (Racks)
These bitches and these niggas know
That they can't play around here (Yeah)
I call the spot elementary (Yeah)
'Cause I keep a K around here
(Hey, hey, turn it, turn it!) (Yeah)
All my Aces (Ow!) if you play (Yup!)
They make you grady baby (Woo!) (Ah!, woo!)
I might shoot you (Ayy) in your head
And then it's no more thinking
(Thu-thu-thu-thu! Turn up!) (Ayy)
Pussy boy, I'll leave you dead
And call it dedication (No pressure, ayy!) (Woo!)
I put Act inside my drink, they call it medication
(Ayy! My drink medicated) (Hey!)

[T.I.:]
Hold up, pull up, roll up, pour up (Po' up)
Ounces in a soda (Woo)
Push up on your bitch and shawty
I didn't even know her (We had a show)
Hey, see this hood I throw up (Yeah)
Realest one I ever seen (Bankhead!)
ATL, call it XXL (What)
'Cause we stay spittin' shells out a long magazine (Grah, bah!)
Real nigga got a crown, better own that thing (What!)
If the game got a throne, bet I'm on that thing (Yup!)
Beloved dope dealer and a well known King
And a killer 'pending how you put your spin on things (Hey!, man)
You know how many suckers get ahead I've seen?
'Bout the same amount of pussy niggas dead I've seen (Uh-huh)
You know how many bitches in the bed I've seen? (Uh)
That like asking me how much bread I've seen (Hmm)
Aye, more than enough, in God we trust
You love a real niggas then fuck with us
But if you got a problem with it then fuck with us
It be ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Got your bitch riding everything but the bus
She let me put it everywhere but the butt (Hah)
I always tell the bitch don't talk so much (Shh)
She say "Who I'm hidin' from? What the fuck? For what?" (Hey!)

[Young Thug & T.I.:]
Niggas say they fuck with you, I can't tell
$500,000 Chevelle (Ayy)
I got bricks and birds for retail (Ayy)
I got 100,000 worth of belts (Racks)
These bitches and these niggas know
That they can't play around here (Yeah)
I call the spot elementary (Yeah)
'Cause I keep a K around here
(Hey, hey, turn it, turn it!) (Yeah)
All my Aces (Ow!) if you play (Yup!)
They make you grady baby (Woo! Ah!, woo!)
I might shoot you (Ayy) in your head
And then it's no more thinking
(Thu-thu-thu-thu! Turn up!) (Ayy)
Pussy boy, I'll leave you dead
And call it dedication (No pressure, ayy! Woo!)
I put Act inside my drink, they call it medication
(Ayy! My drink medicated hey!)

[Young Thug:]
Man I'm leanin' so bad
I can't do a push up for a million
(Lean, lean lean lean)
Catch a nigga baby mama
Make her give me nothing but ceiling (Head), ayy
Hey, never had time to rap and cap
And dap these tramps, my ice a lamp
I can't adapt, I'd rather slap
I rather pop his cap and naps
His mom, his aunt, his dad, his cat (Woo!)
2004, I was screaming everything Gucci
No Big Cat (Woo!)
And we was skatin' up, ridin' with the K's
Shootin' at all these big racks
Fuck a officer (Yeah)
Akon, what it do, bruh? (What it do?)
Keep these fuckin' hoes off of you (Why?)
When you get some new money turn new or (Swoo!)
You gon' wish you would've or could've (And what?)
The way I
Sit down and get rich like a booker (Yeah)
Might drop the top up off it
If I don't get into the helicopter (Racks!)
Feeling like I'm on a blue dolphin (Why?)
Nigga ridin' 'round with like hella choppers
Every time I need new surgery (What?)
I'm gon' call up my head doctor (Brrr)
Five more thousands 'cause
She ain't got no head problems (She the best, she the best)
Yeah, all my niggas they be bleedin' nigga (What?)
Yeah, they ain't gon' never cheat a nigga (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Yeah, pop a watermelon any season, nigga (Ayy)
Yeah, hey, I'm 'a bag her every time I see her, nigga (K's up!)
Fishing hoes with my hook (What?)
Pockets all swollen, no book (What?)
Glasses on, she don't know how I look (Nerdy, nerdy)
Since I'm on, how the fuck do I look? (I'm on, I'm on)
You ain't got no milli, you can't tell me how I look (Oh)
I'm a big old Blood over here, I'm Suge (Ahh!)

[Young Thug & T.I.:]
Niggas say they fuck with you, I can't tell
$500,000 Chevelle (Aye)
I got bricks and birds for retail (Aye)
I got 100,000 worth of belts (Racks)
These bitches and these niggas know
That they can't play around here (Yeah)
I call the spot elementary (Yeah)
'Cause I keep a K around here
(Hey, hey, turn it, turn it!) (RAH!) (Yeah)
All my Aces (Ow!) if you play (Yup!)
They make you grady baby (woo!) (Ah!, woo!)
I might shoot you (Aye) in your head
And then it's no more thinking
(Thu-thu-thu-thu! Turn up!) (Aye)
Pussy boy, I'll leave you dead
And call it dedication (No pressure, aye!) (Woo!)
I put Act inside my drink, they call it medication
(Aye! My drink medicated) (Aye!, hey!)

[Boosie Badazz & Young Thug:]
Aye, you ain't read the paper? (You ain't read the paper?)
You ain't seen the news?
Got a team of goons 'bout action
Never start it, but I finish it, so nasty, ask 'em (Ask 'em)
They know 'bout me
I'm so Keyshia with the 9, rock-a-bye, baby
So smooth, so fly, baby (So fly, boom, boom!)
Rock-a-bye, baby (Yeah)
Let me turn up now, four shows a week
100 thousand a piece, we getting bread now (Bread now)
(Yeah)
Mama don't worry 'bout nothin' ('bout nothin')
You can kick up your legs now (Yeah)
I ain't lying, got hitters on top of hitters (Chop it, nigga!)
Got hitters on top of hitters (Yeah)
Rest in peace to my nigga Lil Bleek (Lil Bleek!)
I miss you, I miss you nigga
Just tryna live and have a lil fun, nigga
Nephew just came home, half a million dollar bond, nigga
I got fans that bust yo' ass, you talk 'bout Boosie baby
Got off my ass, went got that bag, and Boosie made it
Hate that, nigga

[Young Thug & T.I.:]
Niggas say they fuck with you, I can't tell
$500,000 Chevelle (Aye)
I got bricks and birds for retail (Aye)
I got 100,000 worth of belts (Racks)
These bitches and these niggas know
That they can't play around here (Yeah)
I call the spot elementary (Yeah)
'Cause I keep a K around here
(Hey, hey, turn it, turn it!) (Yeah)
All my Aces (Ow!) if you play (Yup!)
They make you grady baby (Woo!) (Ah!, woo!)
I might shoot you (Aye) in your head
And then it's no more thinking
(Thu-thu-thu-thu!, turn up!) (Aye)
Pussy boy, I'll leave you dead
And call it dedication (No pressure, aye!) (Woo!)
I put Act inside my drink, they call it medication
(Aye!, my drink medicated) (Hey!)


Writer(s): Clifford J. Harris, London Tyler Holmes, Jeffery Lamar Williams, Torrence Hatch
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