Intro: James Blake
Really (Ah), do you ever think about me?
Really, if you're honest with me
I'd like to say it's two-way (Ah)
Do you ever think about me?
Really, if you're honest with me
I'd like to say it's two-way
(-Makers)

Chorus: Gunna
Who else you thinkin' 'bout?
I can't be callin' your phone every day
Fuck is you thinkin' 'bout?
This shit ain't loyal, then it's gonna spoil your heart
Like the trash, you can take it out
Quit makin' up shit to complain about
She lay on the couch, I'm all in her crotch
We fuck, then, we break up
We fuck, then, we make up
We fuck, then, we break up and make up
We fucked in Jamaica
We fucked at Bojangle
We fucked in the back of Bottega
I ordered the check, up I'm over the radar
Now you chasing that pussy, not paper
I slow it all down with the maple
You know I got too many flavors

Verse 1: Gunna
And she fell in love with her neighbor
If I hit it once, then I hit it again
Face and her body a ten
Hair blowin' in the wind
Stoppin' in town and I beat that shit down
And I'm back on the road again
She come on the low with her friends
She know I got hoes like I'm Prince
They printed, I get it, I got every penny
You know I got plenty of Benji's
Fuck in that new condominium
We on the balcony, we looking over the city
She know she gotta come drip to get just like a bachelor
We never showin' no pity
You got a business then I gotta be the ambassador
We got it started in Philly

Chorus: Gunna
Who else you thinkin' 'bout?
I can't be callin' your phone every day
Fuck is you thinkin' 'bout?
This shit ain't loyal, then it's gonna spoil your heart
Like the trash, you can take it out
Quit makin' up shit to complain about
She lay on the couch, I'm all in her crotch
We fuck, then, we break up
We fuck, then, we make up
We fuck, then, we break up and make up
We fucked in Jamaica
We fucked at Bojangle
We fucked in the back of Bottega
I ordered the check, up I'm over the radar
You chasing that pussy, not paper
I slow it all down with the maple
You know I got too many flavors

Verse 2: Gunna
Young Gunna got too many flavors, they all sittin' pretty with white on they toes
High end designer the clothes
Ridin' back of the Rolls (Back of the Rolls)
That my lil' yat, I love fuckin' her face (Yeah)
When it come to that throat, she G.O.A.T. (She G.O.A.T.)
She swallowin' all of it, she don't choke (Don't choke)
I'm pullin' up on her for sure (For sure)
I peep that she want it, ain't give you no warnin'
We always gon' fuck if she horny
Had a few shots and I took her right back to the spot
And I gave her the dick 'til the mornin' (Dick 'til the mornin')
She like a shirt, I been flippin' her inside and out, our sex'll never get borin' (Get borin')
She said she think about me every time I leave out
She need to keep on recordin'

Chorus: Gunna
Who else you thinkin' 'bout?
I can't be callin' your phone every day
Fuck is you thinkin' 'bout?
This shit ain't loyal, then it's gonna spoil your heart
Like the trash, you can take it out
Quit makin' up shit to complain about
She lay on the couch, I'm all in her crotch
We fuck, then, we break up
We fuck, then, we make up
We fuck, then, we break up and make up
We fucked in Jamaica
We fucked at Bojangle
We fucked in the back of Bottega
I ordered the check, up I'm over the radar
You chasing that pussy, not paper
I slow it all down with the maple
You know I got too many flavors

Outro: James Blake
(Run that back Turbo)
Really (Ah), do you ever think about me?
Really, if you're honest with me
I'd like to say it's two-way
(Ah) Do you ever think about me?
Really, if you're honest with me
I'd like to say it's two-way