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YG, Jeremih - Don't Tell 'Em (DaaHype Remix)

Don't Tell 'Em
YG, Jeremih
04:02
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Song lyrics

Mustard on the beat, ho!

[Chorus: Jeremih]
Rhythm is a dancer, I need a companion,
Girl, I guess that must be you.
Body like the summer, fuckin' like no other,
Don't you tell ‘em what we do.
Don't tell ‘em, don't tell ‘em,
You ain't even,
Don't tell ‘em, don't tell ‘em,
You ain't even, you ain't even gotta tell ‘em.
Don't tell ‘em, don't tell ‘em,
You ain't even,
Don't tell ‘em, don't tell ‘em,
You ain't even, you ain't even gotta tell ‘em.
Don't tell ‘em, don't tell ‘em.

[Verse 1: Jeremih]
Know you say you down wit' it,
Won't tell ‘em how you hit the ground wit' it,
Girl, you know I'm from Chicago, I act a fool, Bobby Brown wit' it,
In it, nobody take me out, though.
You got gifts, bring ‘em down the south pole,
Marathon, doll, gon' puttin' miles,
Don't you worry ‘bout it, might gon' work it out.
Only is you got me feelin' like this,
Ooh why, why, why, why?
Lovin' while grabbin' the rhythm of your hips,
That's right, right, right, right, right.

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Jeremih]
Girl, he foo-foo wit' it,
But you know I know what to do wit' it,
I'll give you that, girl, I'm talkin' laps
As if you got a pool in it.
And she say she ain't with your best friends,
Then let me be your down man.
You know you feelin' how your boy press play,
Just keep that ass rewindin'.
Only is you got me feelin' like this,
Ooh why, why, why, why?
Lovin' while grabbin' the rhythm of your hips,
That's right, right, right, right, right.

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: YG]
Throw it up! 9-3-4, 8-6-1-6,
I gotta missed call from your bitch!
She been plottin' on me for a cool minute,
She wanna suck my dick, and I'm cool with it.
I like girls in the shower, when it's winter fresh,
It's that Twitter pussy I met on the Internet
On my late-night thirsty ‘cause it was late-night and I was thirsty.
Girl, I been to that county girl, I ain't tellin',
Handcuff me to the bed, girl it ain't no bailin'.
I keep a stack of hunnids like I keep a secret,
If anything you were just explorin', you wasn't cheatin'.
She got my number stored under fake names,
Her nigga think she faithful, but she runnin' game,
YOLO, so take me out these Polos,
And we can fuck from uno to ocho.

[Chorus]

[Outro: Jeremih]
Skip the rhythm like this, yeah!
Put it on, baby, yeah!
You know you like that,
You know I...

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