How to Build a Relationship by Flume Lyrics
[Intro]
Jungle juice music
Uh, new whips, new whips, uh
New whip with the top, woah
Hold up, not even
[Verse 1]
New whip with the top dropped (Uh)
Suplex a nigga like ascension, the cop dropped (Uh)
I ain't got no million dollar deals, I still make hits
These niggas got million dollar deals and just take shit
I'm not with it, scope wide, I got good vision
I'm seein' through these fake niggas like Bran, you niggas too timid
A little loose-lippin', I'm in the booth sippin'
Cyanide to the head, bitch, I be big sinnin'
Fuck is you talkin' 'bout? I'm into givin' coffins out
I caught him at the coffee house and made him walk it out
[Chorus]
I'm not cool, I'm not nice, I'm not you (Nah)
There's no friends, no feels, this kid's stupid (No)
Fresh smile, gold tooth
Heat to your skull, catch me in a cold mood
Not cool, I'm not nice, I'm not you
There's no friends, no feels, this kid's stupid
Fresh smile, gold tooth, huh
Heat to your skull, catch me in a cold mood
[Verse 2]
I could never show you niggas all this dirt I'm doin'
Sticks to your face like "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan
First nigga put you on the ropes, had you lookin' like a ghost
'Cause you in my heart but you not movin', nigga
Look, fuck is you, uh
Fuck is you vloggin' 'bout? These niggas actin' stalker now
I follow you, you follow me, we ridin' in circles now
Look, it's a crime mob family, guns at the Gawker house
These arms extended, I'm not givin' daps out
Pounds, pounds, pounds
Empty out the safe, put the money on the ground
Bitch, I love it
Heartthrob Peggy, I'm above it
I ain't got no fuckin' tickets, I ain't got no fuckin' money
I ain't got no fuckin' digits
Can't call me at no office, can't call me at no crib
You can call me but Peggy-taker 'cause I can't let these niggas-
Aw, fuck!
[Outro]
Yeah, nigga (Uh)
You know how the fuck we comin' with it (Uh)
You are now tuned into the motherfuckin' infamous
JPEG-motherfuckin'-MAFIA
A.K.A. Buttermilk Jesus
A.K.A. DJ Half-Court Violation
A.K.A. Lil World Cup
And my nigga Flume, we in the streets, nigga, ahh
Uh (Catch me in a cold mood)
Don't, don't, don't call me unless I gave you my number
(Hahahahaha)
That's, that's, that's how relationships built
(Hahahahaha)
Jungle juice music
Uh, new whips, new whips, uh
New whip with the top, woah
Hold up, not even
[Verse 1]
New whip with the top dropped (Uh)
Suplex a nigga like ascension, the cop dropped (Uh)
I ain't got no million dollar deals, I still make hits
These niggas got million dollar deals and just take shit
I'm not with it, scope wide, I got good vision
I'm seein' through these fake niggas like Bran, you niggas too timid
A little loose-lippin', I'm in the booth sippin'
Cyanide to the head, bitch, I be big sinnin'
Fuck is you talkin' 'bout? I'm into givin' coffins out
I caught him at the coffee house and made him walk it out
[Chorus]
I'm not cool, I'm not nice, I'm not you (Nah)
There's no friends, no feels, this kid's stupid (No)
Fresh smile, gold tooth
Heat to your skull, catch me in a cold mood
Not cool, I'm not nice, I'm not you
There's no friends, no feels, this kid's stupid
Fresh smile, gold tooth, huh
Heat to your skull, catch me in a cold mood
[Verse 2]
I could never show you niggas all this dirt I'm doin'
Sticks to your face like "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan
First nigga put you on the ropes, had you lookin' like a ghost
'Cause you in my heart but you not movin', nigga
Look, fuck is you, uh
Fuck is you vloggin' 'bout? These niggas actin' stalker now
I follow you, you follow me, we ridin' in circles now
Look, it's a crime mob family, guns at the Gawker house
These arms extended, I'm not givin' daps out
Pounds, pounds, pounds
Empty out the safe, put the money on the ground
Bitch, I love it
Heartthrob Peggy, I'm above it
I ain't got no fuckin' tickets, I ain't got no fuckin' money
I ain't got no fuckin' digits
Can't call me at no office, can't call me at no crib
You can call me but Peggy-taker 'cause I can't let these niggas-
Aw, fuck!
[Outro]
Yeah, nigga (Uh)
You know how the fuck we comin' with it (Uh)
You are now tuned into the motherfuckin' infamous
JPEG-motherfuckin'-MAFIA
A.K.A. Buttermilk Jesus
A.K.A. DJ Half-Court Violation
A.K.A. Lil World Cup
And my nigga Flume, we in the streets, nigga, ahh
Uh (Catch me in a cold mood)
Don't, don't, don't call me unless I gave you my number
(Hahahahaha)
That's, that's, that's how relationships built
(Hahahahaha)