Mini Kelly Lyrics – Bryson Tiller

Read the full Mini Kelly lyrics by Bryson Tiller along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Bryson Tiller’s music, you can also explore Cut Ties and First Place, two other songs by Bryson Tiller.

[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller]
Brace yourself, take your time, this s*it is not a diss
Make your mind up, don’t make no time for him at my expense
You see, I know you fine shyt, you put on s*it that’s timeless
Like Chanel from ’96, some YSL highs clicking
We step inside the Bacarrat hotel, them diamonds glistening
Hit Casablanca in Morocco, doing high end s*it
Biggest yacht, I copped it, helicopters how I spin s*it
I ain’t make this s*it to not spend s*it
But then you pop your s*it and do it with Versace lipstick and I got defensive
To me this s*it is cheap, but time expensive
I gave you more, learned my lesson, poor me, but you my blessing

I’m stressing, still get you that Hermès Kelly
We used to shop at the Forever, talking ’bout forever
You gon’ look twenty-one forever, gon’ be hot forever
Doing s*it ain’t gotta ask me, I spend that knot forever
New n!gga gon’ get his ass beat, I do it accapella
Sonic’s Jaw to Roc-A-Fella, thinking he gon’ stunt on my expense
Touch the Cullinan, I cut him on some culinary s*it
Trying step on s*it, no red bottoms, Bloody Mary s*it
You care about him, tell him cut it, all that fu*king arrogance
Airing s*it, rapping like Carter, no Aaron s*it
Rest in peace, I want candy paint my whip, I’m very rich
Embarrassing how I just
I just keep giving you more

[Verse 2: Bryson Tiller]
Why’d I try to find solace through my vices when we split?
Put a shiesty on and try to find my wifey in the strip
Club, I know that ain’t like Bryson, but I had to write that hit
Turned tricks, looking at me like, “Well, you ain’t learn s*it”
But then my earnings tripled, what I learned was just be earnest with them
And it’s working, huh? I can finally go get you that Birkin
I can finally get you that whip that you been asking for, that trip that you been asking for
But you still tripping off the last ho
I ain’t even come ask who you last smashed, I detached from you
Left it in the past when I put you through the mattress

Took you back to Saks Fifth, spent racks on you, these facts here
Motherfu*k last year, let’s punt that through the stratosphere
All I see is mad tears, trust I understand the feel
I can’t let it shake me, why the fu*k you think I’m standing here?
I miss hugging you up under restoration chandeliers
And I’m manicking with you and that’s
Well, that’s the best way I can put it, for real

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Big bags, I keep the static to the minimal
Love money, I’m a fanatic for them envelopes
H slide, she got her meds in her bag too
Mini Kelly, it’s time to show you how that bag move
Shaking ass, she love to post but she never tag
Not a drinker, it’s mocktails for her faking ass
Close friends, I know she tell ’em how I d!ck her down
You looking thicker now, girl, you make a n!gga proud
Call up the dope boys, it’s time to get a different crowd
You need some new toys and I’m tryna get ’em now
Van Cleef only flaw is that it never die
I can never be the biggest if I never try
We can never get to Venice if we never fly
I won’t get to see the heavens if I never die
Amalfi Coast, all white, we out in Italy
Look what it did to me, real n!gga tendencies
Fast cars, thousand acres in the backyard
I got my own dealership, now tell ’em that part
Time to order twenty bottles on my black card
Supermodels taking pictures with a rap star
We know the envy ’cause we came up from the asphalt
These n!ggas pass off, hating was the last straw (Maybach Music)