(Tonight, tonight, tonight, oh)
Yeah
Tiller, word
And young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't you come over?
Last lap in the city, know I'm unsober, true
You know I see you come over
(You know I see you over there, there, there)
Uh-uh, uh-uh
I'm a badass Brooklyn brown skin bitch (brown skin bitch)
And I love a hood nigga with some toxic dick (ayy, you get me)
Nothin' but some socks, he from Bronx in it (whoa)
Have me walkin' all crooked in my Crocs and shit (brr)
Bitch, I go Taraji for my baby boy (for my baby boy)
Ride it like a Kawasaki, that's his favorite tour (favorite tour)
I'ma swipe his EBT like a AmEx (uh)
Give it to him raw (uh), no drawers (uh), no latex (uh)
Yeah, I got him butt naked for me waitin' at home (waitin' at home)
Bitch, your pussy ain't hittin' if he takin' too long (if he takin' too long)
Told him, "Put my name on it" (yeah), yeah, I'm makin' him moan
He smellin' Lola Brooke, that's his favorite cologne
Ha, huh
I'm yours for the summer, wanna
Drinkin' 'til we drunk, I'm choosin' you, baby
Thin's I wanna do to you, baby, you say he crazy so I gotta take a risk on you
Like why would I lie when I'm tryna put this on you (yeah), baby?
Tryna make a choice between his leg or his face
Shit gettin' more intense than election day
What I expect today? It's good neck, hood sex
Stop callin' his phone, bitch, he catchin' up on rest (uh)
F*ckin' with me is a W, f*ck him at the W
The way you comin' quick seems to trouble you
I want a rough neck nigga that's nasty
My sex drive wild and his ass is immaculate
Put it in my, nah, nigga stabbin' it
A shooter that assassinate, tongue doin' magic tricks (oh)
Foot on neck (yeah), he ain't doin' funnel (funnel)
Got him bussin' nuts 'fore we leave the Holland Tunnel (yeah, ooh-ooh)
Ha, huh
I'm yours for the summer (hey), I wanna
Drink until we drunk, I'm choosin' you, baby
Thin's I wanna do to you, baby, you say he crazy so I gotta take a risk on you (hey)
Like why would I lie when I'm tryna put this on you (yeah), baby?
Ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah
Yeah, Tiller
Oh-ooh-whoa, baby, yeah
Young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't you come over?
Last lap in the city, know I'm unsober, true
Know I see you come over
(You know I see you over there, there, there)
Lola Brooke - You Lyrics
Lola Brooke - You Lyrics
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(Tonight, tonight, tonight, oh)
Yeah
Tiller, word
And young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't you come over?
Last lap in the city, know I'm unsober, true
You know I see you come over
(You know I see you over there, there, there)
Uh-uh, uh-uh
I'm a badass Brooklyn brown skin bitch (brown skin bitch)
And I love a hood nigga with some toxic dick (ayy, you get me)
Nothin' but some socks, he from Bronx in it (whoa)
Have me walkin' all crooked in my Crocs and shit (brr)
Bitch, I go Taraji for my baby boy (for my baby boy)
Ride it like a Kawasaki, that's his favorite tour (favorite tour)
I'ma swipe his EBT like a AmEx (uh)
Give it to him raw (uh), no drawers (uh), no latex (uh)
Yeah, I got him butt naked for me waitin' at home (waitin' at home)
Bitch, your pussy ain't hittin' if he takin' too long (if he takin' too long)
Told him, "Put my name on it" (yeah), yeah, I'm makin' him moan
He smellin' Lola Brooke, that's his favorite cologne
Ha, huh
I'm yours for the summer, wanna
Drinkin' 'til we drunk, I'm choosin' you, baby
Thin's I wanna do to you, baby, you say he crazy so I gotta take a risk on you
Like why would I lie when I'm tryna put this on you (yeah), baby?
Tryna make a choice between his leg or his face
Shit gettin' more intense than election day
What I expect today? It's good neck, hood sex
Stop callin' his phone, bitch, he catchin' up on rest (uh)
F*ckin' with me is a W, f*ck him at the W
The way you comin' quick seems to trouble you
I want a rough neck nigga that's nasty
My sex drive wild and his ass is immaculate
Put it in my, nah, nigga stabbin' it
A shooter that assassinate, tongue doin' magic tricks (oh)
Foot on neck (yeah), he ain't doin' funnel (funnel)
Got him bussin' nuts 'fore we leave the Holland Tunnel (yeah, ooh-ooh)
Ha, huh
I'm yours for the summer (hey), I wanna
Drink until we drunk, I'm choosin' you, baby
Thin's I wanna do to you, baby, you say he crazy so I gotta take a risk on you (hey)
Like why would I lie when I'm tryna put this on you (yeah), baby?
Ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah
Yeah, Tiller
Oh-ooh-whoa, baby, yeah
Young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't you come over?
Last lap in the city, know I'm unsober, true
Know I see you come over
(You know I see you over there, there, there)
Yeah
Tiller, word
And young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't you come over?
Last lap in the city, know I'm unsober, true
You know I see you come over
(You know I see you over there, there, there)
Uh-uh, uh-uh
I'm a badass Brooklyn brown skin bitch (brown skin bitch)
And I love a hood nigga with some toxic dick (ayy, you get me)
Nothin' but some socks, he from Bronx in it (whoa)
Have me walkin' all crooked in my Crocs and shit (brr)
Bitch, I go Taraji for my baby boy (for my baby boy)
Ride it like a Kawasaki, that's his favorite tour (favorite tour)
I'ma swipe his EBT like a AmEx (uh)
Give it to him raw (uh), no drawers (uh), no latex (uh)
Yeah, I got him butt naked for me waitin' at home (waitin' at home)
Bitch, your pussy ain't hittin' if he takin' too long (if he takin' too long)
Told him, "Put my name on it" (yeah), yeah, I'm makin' him moan
He smellin' Lola Brooke, that's his favorite cologne
Ha, huh
I'm yours for the summer, wanna
Drinkin' 'til we drunk, I'm choosin' you, baby
Thin's I wanna do to you, baby, you say he crazy so I gotta take a risk on you
Like why would I lie when I'm tryna put this on you (yeah), baby?
Tryna make a choice between his leg or his face
Shit gettin' more intense than election day
What I expect today? It's good neck, hood sex
Stop callin' his phone, bitch, he catchin' up on rest (uh)
F*ckin' with me is a W, f*ck him at the W
The way you comin' quick seems to trouble you
I want a rough neck nigga that's nasty
My sex drive wild and his ass is immaculate
Put it in my, nah, nigga stabbin' it
A shooter that assassinate, tongue doin' magic tricks (oh)
Foot on neck (yeah), he ain't doin' funnel (funnel)
Got him bussin' nuts 'fore we leave the Holland Tunnel (yeah, ooh-ooh)
Ha, huh
I'm yours for the summer (hey), I wanna
Drink until we drunk, I'm choosin' you, baby
Thin's I wanna do to you, baby, you say he crazy so I gotta take a risk on you (hey)
Like why would I lie when I'm tryna put this on you (yeah), baby?
Ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah
Yeah, Tiller
Oh-ooh-whoa, baby, yeah
Young Lola, controlla
Come closer, mad pretty
Make me lose composure
Tad tipsy, won't you come over?
Last lap in the city, know I'm unsober, true
Know I see you come over
(You know I see you over there, there, there)
Writer: Bryson Tiller, James McKinley, Julian Mason, Kameron Glasper, Khris Riddick-Tynes, Ronnie E. Broomfield, Shyniece Thomas
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.