Playboi Carti - ​talk lyrics

Playboi Carti

Playboi Carti [Jordan Terrell Carter] Atlanta, Georgia. U.S. 🇺🇸

[Playboi Carti - ​talk lyrics]

Damn, son, where'd you find this?
(Zone 3, nigga)
Woo (I'm in this bitch, Barti)
Carti, damn (Playboi Carti, nigga)
Uh (Southside, nigga, all day, nigga)
Uh, uh (Pull up)
Yeah (Fuck wrong with these niggas, man?)
Yeah, uh (Give a fuck 'bout none of
These niggas out here, man)
(This is how you feel, Carti
This is how you feel, On my mama)
Playboi, uh, uh (Sippin' on this Act'
Don't know how to act)


Hold up, who that bangin' on my door?
If a nigga try to rob me I'ma
Blow him in his throat, hold up, uh
Don't be blowin' up my phone
Soundin' like a lil ho about some
Coke, you fuckin' ho, uh, uh


It's Cartier, these diamonds let
You niggas know, uh
You see these hundreds, these
Hundreds, nigga, we blow, uh
Fuck her under covers, my nigga
Until the morning uh, yeah, yeah, yeah
She say, "Carti, why you actin' funny?"
(Bitch) "Ever since you got some money
You've been frontin' on me" (Bitch)
Say no more, the new cars (Hey)
The new broads
You so bright but you so lost, damn
You let the lean get you so gone, uh
Don't let the drugs get you so gone, uh
Don't let the drugs get you so gone, uh
You so bright but you so lost, yeah
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Sippin' on this Act', don't
Know how to act, uh
Uh, yeah, uh my lil' whoadie got my back
He'll blow you back
My lil' whoadie got the strap
He'll blow you back, damn
Yeah, yeah, uh uh (So, so fuckin' lost)
(Lost)

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