You’re about to enjoy NO COMMENTS by Don Toliver Here In ThinkNews
About NO COMMENTS, a song by the talented American rapper and musical artist Don Toliver. Serving as the eleventh solo on JACKBOYS 2, “NO COMMENTS” sees Don Toliver rap about fame, vices, emotional detachment, and media overload, all laced with a mix of irony and hedonism. He graces the song while matching the energy of a high-energy synth instrumental. This track is also the fifth song from JACKBOYS & Travis Scott’s latest Album, “JACKBOYS 2“ As a music lover or a fan of JACKBOYS, you won’t regret adding this track to your music playlist.
Nevertheless, while listening to the music on our platform, don’t forget to share your comments below.
Listen and Enjoy the song below; enjoy!
Don Toliver – NO COMMENTS Lyrics
[Chorus: Don Toliver]
This shit half ironic
I’m smokin’ chronic
Pop one more, might vomit
Move quick like I’m Sonic, uh
Turn off yo comments, uh (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments, yeah (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments (Woo)
This shit half ironic (Ironic)
I’m smokin’ chronic (I’m smokin’)
Pop one more, might vomit (Uh-huh)
Move quick like I’m Sonic, uh (Uh-huh)
Turn off them comments
Turnin’ off yo comments, yeah (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments, yeah (Don’t read it, babe)
[Verse: Don Toliver]
I’m just tryna get to know you, babe
Put your legs on my shoulder, babe
Come in ’cause I got more to say
You the main, baker made more today
Sold me a putz and I’m off the K
You had me up good, bet I owe you, bae
Yeah, I got somethin’ I wanna show you, bae
You doin’ too much, better find your place, ah
Oh, when the JACKBOYS bettin’ up the stakes
We come in here to bop, yeah, bop the place
And shawty, she a freak, wanna fuck my face
I’ll tell you when I’m cummin’ out my nut, okay
Don’t read those comments, they got nothin’ to say
Don’t read those comments, they got nothin’ to say
They got nothin’ to say
[Chorus: Don Toliver]
This shit half ironic
I’m smokin’ chronic
Pop one more, might vomit
Move quick like I’m Sonic, uh
Turn off yo comments, uh (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments, yeah (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments (Woo)
This shit half ironic (Ironic)
I’m smokin’ chronic (I’m smokin’)
Pop one more, might vomit (Uh-huh)
Move quick like I’m Sonic, uh (Uh-huh)
Turn off them comments
Turnin’ off yo comments, yeah (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments (Don’t read it, babe)
Turnin’ off yo comments, yeah (Don’t read it, babe)
[Interlude]
You’re listening to JB2
(This is my station) (Yeah)
[Outro: Bun B]
So if you ain’t [?] baked in, somebody BP yet to pull over
Find payphone, have some change
You know what I’m sayin’?
All that typa shit just to answer the call
That’s the problem, like we was– we was bakin’ enough money, we had to hope
And we ain’t have nobody to hit ’cause nobody else had them hoes (Niggas)
They’ll just be a pimp
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