Justin Timberlake - TKO (Black Friday Remix) Lyrics

[Intro: Justin Timberlake (Timbaland)]
I don't understand it
Tell me, how could you be so low?
(And all in thrilling, new, living sound)
Dammit babe

[Verse 1: J. Cole]
Blood thicker than water, right
F*ck bitches, they all alike
Stand up nigga, not the falling type
Heart blacker than a Harlem night
Til I met you, they say the devil wear Prada
But I doubt it cause the Lord did bless you
Damn look at that body
Short bus shorty, cause it sure is special
Cole to the rescue, never save a ho
Hoes like to hide their behavior though
Thought you was a down ass bitch
'til I found that shit a couple days ago
I was home alone, next thing I know
That long ass verse from a song called "Control" was on
The room got nearer, the tune got clearer
That's when I seen the shit playing on your phone
Girl, what is that, a ringtone
Shit, not you too
Man that hype done got you too
Everybody and their momma gassed
Even my momma asked what I'mma do
Decisions, decisions
In case this is war, then I load up on all ammunition
If a nigga want problems, my trigger's on auto
I'll make sure that nobody miss him
Now pack up your shit, you don't believe in me
I don't need you, I got me, bitch
Same nigga moved to NYC, bitch
Got a record deal and a college degree, bitch
Two gold plaques, I produced all the tracks
And I never ever ever lean on Jay-Z, bitch
And after all that achievement
Real nigga never even went and got his teeth fixed
Now you try to play me, bitch?
You try to f*ckin' play me? I ought to knock your ass out

[Hook: Justin Timberlake]
TKO, I don't understand it, tell me how could you be so low
You've been swinging after the bell and after all of the whistle blows
Tried to go below the belt, through my chest, perfect hit to the dome
Dammit babe

[Verse 2: A$AP Rocky]
All hail Pretty Flacko, bitch, celebrate it
Had the game on lock, streets serenaded
Now you lame mothaf*ckas lookin' devastated
Bet you niggas wish you never hated, that's the devil ain't it
F*ck that shit, he rich, f*ck that shit, he this, f*ck that shit, he that
He black, he don't like blacks, f*ck that shit, he wack
F*ck that shit he raps, f*ck that shit he spits, f*ck that bitch
F*ck that bitch he with, finished talking shit
Get up off my dick
The nonsense is synonymous with comments from the blogs about
Menages with the gossips and the bosses, f*ck surprises
I'm monogamous and not to mention, in my closet
Is a model chick, grimey gothic fits, trapped inside of it
Besides it I'd deny the shit, y'all should stop the shit
I'm the shit, not just kinda sick, the doc prescribed my shit
Cock it, click-click, opposite, stop and droppin' shit
'fore poppin' shit, from popular to poppin' picks to poppin' tits
She pop her pussy, pop a Xanny, popular for compliments
Make it rain, she pop that shit, it boosts her confidence
Was supposed to stop this shit but spit like I forgot some shit
Forgot the topic, I hope God forgive you, peep my common sense

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Pusha T]
JT this like deja vu right?
All this album of the year talk, niggas claiming they're the best out
I been hot since the Purple Tape and this cuban's poking my chest out
They keep calling on King Push, this beach chair, I'm stretched out
My name is my name, bitch, until I'm gone and it's etched out
I been known to blow a quarter brick on baby hairs and a messy bun
If I make her mine, I made her mind, she fall in line and we got some
Memoirs of a millionaire, even better I'm a reallionaire
Alaïa skirt, Fendi work, dress my baby like build-a-bear
F*ck you know about the type of rollie, f*ck you know about blowin' bands
Bezel on it like a grand circle, diamonds in it, holdin' hands
A1 since day 1, I sold dope and my name rung
I sold dope where I came from and it's all dope what I made from it
No lie, know why? Guy Fish in my bowtie
JT up in the 3 piece and we magic baby like showtime
She ain't know, we ain't know, try to trap her but she ain't slow
Once she trap you with the DA flow, it's lights out, TKO