Me & my Bitch

She gone do whatever
I say (It's just me and my bitch)

We ain't come here to play
(It's just me and my bitch)

We just tryna get rich
(It's just me and my bitch)

I might take me a trip
(It's just me and my bitch

Listening to big shit
Me and bitch

Things done changed
I'm just Tryna get rich

It's a warning
Stay away if you snitch

Gimme the loot
Ain't into the pics

Everyday struggle
I started with nicks

You the big poppa
Don't get shot in the wip

Respect is everything once
It's damaged forget

Not a friend of mine
We ain't go out and get

Unbelievable wen
I met the connect

Suicidal thoughts
Don't be forcing my hand

The what leave the what
Bro u gotta be playing

My bitch juicy
Wen I'm in it I'm slaying

So you ready to die
Well I'm ready to ride

One more chance
Then im ready to slide

Machine gun funk
Blow the thoughts off ya mind

Even fake jewels
Got a reason shine

Niggas get robbed
Hurd they wasted they time

The gun transform
Call it optimums prime

Need the whole 10
If you shopping A dime

They ain't got bars
They just simply rhyme

Frank white shit
I could get you a job

Where I'm from
Either you eat or you starve

Skittles got me high
I could play with a star

Shooters like trae young
Scoring from far

Queen and slim
On the road till the end

Fake love all around
So it's hard to pretend

Got a couple dollars
But they don't got sense

3 oz of butta
That's 3 months rent

I don't save em
My name ain't Clark Kent

Good weed have you stuck
Like a bum on the bench

With my ride or die
And we riding high

Smoke out the window
Wen we riding by

We could get on beats
And go line for line

Or we could play the streets
And go nine for nine

I'm cool guy
Just don't cross the line

I be in ya crib
Like you lost your mind

Bout to get the Rollie
I be lost in time

My niggas hug the block
They in love with crime

Niggas be rats
Just be dropping dimes

Ima bos nigga
They can't stop my shine

Feeling like smokey
I'm just tryna high

How you a bum
But you tryna get fly

You living
But you just tryna get by

Wen I grip the chop
I don't aim at the sky

Nigga said I'm broke
Then he telling you lies

Run off on the plug
Oh you listen to plies

Ya moms in the basement
Praying to god

Streets ain't for
Eeverybody get you a job



Credits
Writer(s): Jahmeel Cupid
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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