You (Explicit) - Lola Brooke/Bryson Tiller

Composed by：Bryson Tiller/James H. McKinley/Ronnie E. Broomfield/Shyniece Thomas/Khris Riddick-Tynes/Julian Mason/Kameron Glasper

Produced by：Khris Riddick-Tynes/Lil Ju

Tonight tonight tonight oh

Yeah uh

Tiller woah

And young lola controlla

Come closer mad pretty

Make me lose composure

Take take to won't you come over

Last lap in the city

Know I'm not sober 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 *****

And I love a hood nigga

With some toxic d**k

Nothing but some socks

He from bronx in it woah

Have me walking all crooked

In my crocs and **** brrr

***** I go taraji for my

Baby boo

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

No drawers uh no latex uh

Yeah I got him butt naked

For me waitin' at home waitin' at home

***** your p***y ain't hittin'

If he takin' too long

Told him put my name on it

Yeah I'm makin' him moan

He smellin' lola brooke

That's his favorite cologne

Ha huh

I'm yours for the Summer

I wanna

Drinking 'til we drunk

I'm choosin' you baby

Things 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

Ayy yeah ayy yeah

Tryna make a choice between his leg or his face

**** gettin' more intense

I need action daily

What I expect today

It's good neck hood sex

Stop callin' his phone

***** he catchin' up a rest uh

******* with me is a W

**** him at the W

When you comin' quick seems to trouble you

I want a rough neck nigga that's nasty

My sex drive wild and his a*s 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 hot a tunnel yeah ooh ooh

I'm yours for the Summer hey I wanna

Drinking 'til we drunk

I'm choosin' you baby

Things 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 woah baby yeah

Young lola controlla

Come closer mad pretty

Make me lose composure

Take take to won't you come over

Last lap in the city

Know I'm not sober true

You know I see you come over

You know I see you over there

There there