For The Bitches

She picks the phone up, no one to talk to
Don't wanna go out, Postmates and vodka
She has blowouts, they come for a fix
They don't even know her, they don't even know her
They don't drive, no not in this city
They just ride, past the people they pity
They get fucked up and move on
They get fucked up and move on
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
Diamonds all in their stitches
Can't feel what they're missing
I feel bad for them
House in the Hamptons, so many cars
She's got daddy's Amex, but she can't get his heart
They show off a photo, just to impress
They don't even know her, they don't even know her
They don't drive, no not in this city
They just ride, past the people they pity
They get fucked up and move on
They get fucked up and move on
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
Diamonds all in their stitches
Can't feel what they're missing
And I feel bad for them
Oh, and I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
Diamonds all in their stitches
Can't feel what they're missing
And I feel bad for them
Oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh
Oh, I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
Diamonds all in their stitches
Can't feel what they're missing
And I feel bad for them
Oh, and I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
I feel bad for the bitches, bitches
Diamonds all in their stitches
Can't feel what they're missing
And I feel bad for them



Credits
Writer(s): Ethan D Mentzer, Nina Rachel Lee
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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