"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 (Sipping on this Act', don't know how to act)

Hold up, who that banging on my door?
If a nigga try to rob me I'ma blow him in his throat, hold up, uh
Don't be blowing up my phone
Sounding like a little ho about some coke, you fucking 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 acting funny?" (Bitch)
"Ever since you got some money you've been fronting on me" (Bitch)
Say no more, the new cars (Hey)
The new broads, uh
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 (So, so fucking lost)
Sipping on this Act', don't know how to act, uh
(Lost)
Uh, yeah, uh (So, so fucking lost)
My little' whoadie got my back, he'll blow you back, damn
(Lost)
Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah (So, so fucking lost)
My little' whoadie got the strap, he'll blow you back, damn
(Lost)
Yeah, yeah, uh (So, so fucking lost)
Uh (So, so fucking lost)
(Lost)