Why You Mad?

Why you mad?
Why you mad?
Why you mad?
Why you mad?

(Aye)
I might hit the club to fuck it up (aye)
I might hit the licks to make it jump (aye)

(Why you mad)
Make it jump (aye)
(Why you mad)

(Aye)
I might hit the club to fuck it up (aye)
I might hit the licks to make it jump (aye)

(Why you mad)
Make it jump (aye)
(Why you mad)

Bitches be salty (salty)
Prolly 'cause they baby daddy exalt me (exalt me)
I look like a art piece (aye)
The way that these diamonds so sparkly

I'm sick of you hoes
Play with me bitch
And you will get exposed (don't do it)
You gotta be snorting that
Shit up your nose
To think that to me
You could ever come close

Give them a break (Give them a break)
There's only so much (There's only so much)
That a nigga could take (that a nigga could take)
I look like a snack
And she cleaning her plate
Her man in the corner
And he looking irate
Nobody's safe (Nobody's safe)

I'm coming for blood
And I move like a great
These bitches is wounded
I'm loving the taste
I got you surrounded
There ain't no escape

(Where you going?)
Apply that pressure
Laying in the cut
Make it hurt don't let up
Ain't bringing nothing to the table
You can get up
Gotta do more only kids just set up (grow up)

We all got a part (We all got a part)
You stuck on the bench
When we all gotta start
We out making plays
Little bitch read the chart
This life is for niggas
With more than just heart (There's more to it)

(Aye)
I might hit the club to fuck it up (aye)
I might hit the licks to make it jump (aye)

(Why you mad)
Make it jump (aye)
(Why you mad)

(Aye)
I might hit the club to fuck it up (aye)
I might hit the licks to make it jump (aye)

(Why you mad)
Make it jump (aye)
(Why you mad)

Heart throb (Heart throb)
Cardiac (Cardiac)
Born Star (Born Star)
Zodiac (Zodiac)
Where's the lie (Where's the lie)
Polygraph (Polygraph)
Broke lose from my chains better hold me back

Pretty little bitty (aye)
With good kitty cat
Niggas front on IG
But they really whack (aye)
Go figure that is a trap
Exposing how these niggas act

Take your bitch home with me
Then I give her back (Yikes)
Ain't even bout to stress
Can't argue with a nigga
Who can't even get a text
Whose 10k followers
Is they biggest flex
That you know
Probably cost him a whole check

Show me some respect
I bossed up bitch
Now I'm cutting the checks
Did this shit
So I can stunt on my ex
Her shits in a box
And it's all to the left
(To the left, to the left)

They know I'm up next
I'm sure it's the reason
These hoes is so pressed
Talking that shit
Then say it with ya chest
Catch me outside
We can put it to rest

Ain't no stopping me
Keep it going like a game of monopoly (shits long)
Leave nothing to chance
Stick to the plan
Only the real
Gon' rock wit me (fuck with me)

(Aye)
I might hit the club to fuck it up (aye)
I might hit the licks to make it jump (aye)

(Why you mad)
Make it jump (aye)
(Why you mad)

(Aye)
I might hit the club to fuck it up (aye)
I might hit the licks to make it jump (aye)

(Why you mad)
Make it jump (aye)
(Why you mad)

Tell that bitch whose on your dick
She might as well just buss a split
Tell that bitch whose on your dick
She might as well just buss a split

Tell that bitch whose on your dick
She might as well just buss a split
Tell that bitch whose on your dick
She might as well just buss a split



Credits
Writer(s): Nina Campbell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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