Bryson Tiller - Don't Worry/Molly (Freestyle) lyrics

[Part 1: Don't Worry] [Intro] I, still got it, my n***a Don't worry 'bout me, n***a Never worry 'bout these n***as Sk** level on fleek, n***a Out in South Beach with the weed I came up that's high sea Shout out my big brother king [Verse 1] Tiller quit playing boy, you got this Turn up on these n***as, make the knob twist You know I've been going through a lot of sh** I gotta start thinking 'bout the positives Came up on a check, I take it to the bank, deposit it She hate when she tell me one thing and I do the opposite That's just how I be when I be thinking 'bout the guap and sh** Like I give a f** 'bout a hater hypothesis If you putting money up, put your bands on him That's your best bet, cause the man gon' win If sh** get outta hand, I put my hands on him Damn, Tiller you went Super Saiyan on them I'm about that action, put the cam on him True, n***a all hell broke loose Live from the motherf**in' L-O-U Doing numbers, getting numbers in my cell phone, too Like viewer discretion Come through with a weapon My crew is the sh** and your newest sewer the essence I blew through the finish, ooh but you was in second I'd do a song or two with you if you was impressive Cut you a deal on it if that's what you were suggesting You getting me too congested, I think I need Mucinex Cause you sicken me, like "Can I get a freebie?" Are you kidding me? I gave your b**h a third of my dick, she want the trilogy She feeling me Never met nobody real as me That's cause most of these n***as weak Keep the shade coming, boy, you never offending me And you better watch your b**h, cause yo that's my way of getting even I call it tricking season, I ball like Reggie Miller Never been a petty n***a, don't say that for any reason n***a it's go time, been that the whole time Really speaking, and n***as know I did it in no time, ay I did it in no time ay Trap$oul on the motherf**in' way... I gotta go on the motherf**in' way Lexington I'm on my motherf**in' way Young Tiller [Part 2: Molly] [Intro] Molly I got the trap, and the soul I ain't just R&B, no no Word The sound fresh to d**h like so-so b**h I'm bound to get- bound to get next So here we go, here we go! [Verse 1] I'm a young boy coming out the 'Ville (true) This sh** still don't seem real (no) If I don't do it n***a, tell me who will (who?) Young Tiller ball like Lucille (Luc'!) Young Tiller keep it too trill Went from Papa Johns, to popping up in your city Now I got a piece of mind, I gotta keep a new b**h equipped She from the islands Trench coat mobbin', she want me to holler I can't help it that I'm modest And why these n***as lying? You just act like an Impala When you should be more like nada Yo, seriously, don't! Versace my cologne, my city I put on I did it on my own, b**h I'm more than just one song Call me what you want, just don't call when I'm in my zone Gotta put my phone on Airplane mode All my n***as share they hoes, but I'm so stingy with b**hes Big bank in my britches, lit dank in my swisher Get faded no clippers, I hang with them hipsters Don't you compare me with any of these n***as