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Song Lyrics
Downtown seattle on a weekend
You live kinda close, but not too close
Hit your facetime, are you decent?
It's nine o'clock, you either naked or you fully clothed
Why you in the club on a thursday?
These niggas always thirsty and it's full of those
Matchin' pyjamas season is comin' up
How we both single? girl, we gon' cut it close
'cause you bad, bad, yeah, you fine, fine
Put tequila on pause, you drinkin' white wine
But stella ain't wine, I hope you know that
You say stop makin' fun of you or I go back to them stank hoes
To them girls that wear a bracelet on their ankles, to them
Instagram models, who only worried 'bout her angles.
No, thank you
I know what I got, it ain't an angel
But I wouldn't trade your ass for no one
Even on your worst day I thank you for lovin' me
Even at my worst, I know you lovin' me
On days I don't put you first, you still in love with me
Even at my worst, I know you lovin' me
On days I don't put you first, you still in love with me.
Yeah, uh...
So fuckin' with them bitches ain't no fair trade
Wish there was more ways to show I care, babe
Could fuck with someone else, it ain't the same thing.
So, no, thank you
I know what I got, it ain't an angel
But I wouldn't trade your ass for no one
Even on your worst day I thank you for lovin' me (ah)
I know what I got, it ain't an angel
But I wouldn't trade your ass for no one
Even on your worst day I thank you for lovin' me.
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 No Thank YouMore music by Bryson Tiller
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| Bryson Tiller Song Lyrics - No Thank You |
