Kamaiyah, Trina - Set It Up Lyrics

You ain't finna have me sitting' around stressin, bitch (DJ Banks)
(Oh my God, Kenny)
Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I'ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I'ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'

Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I'ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
You ain't finna have me sittin' around stressin'
Bitch, who the fuck you disrespecting?
Niggas ain't shit, his cards, I'ma spend those
I'ma slash his tires and I'ma bust out all his windows
Niggas ain't shit, his cards, I'ma spend those
I'ma slash his tires and I'ma bust out all his windows

Ay, that lil' bitch that you've been with
Is the one you that's setting you up and letting me know just what your pin is
And since it's your card that I'm spending
I'ma run it up, nigga, these cards ain't got no limit
Bought a bracelet tennis, VVS's in it
Since I got your shit I'ma keep running up those digits
You think it's a game and you can fuck wit other bitches
Ya aight, nigga, your windows get to fixing
My mama told me never let a nigga make you fold
Not a lie was told, all your game exposed
Boy you think you can play me like I'm one of these lil' hoes
I'm a big ass boss, standin' tall up on ten toes

Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I'ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
You ain't finna have me sittin' around stressin'
Bitch, who the fuck you disrespecting?
Niggas ain't shit, his cards, I'ma spend those
I'ma slash his tires and I'ma bust out all his windows
Niggas ain't shit, his cards, I'ma spend those
I'ma slash his tires and I'ma bust out all his windows

He got four or five hoes
Takin' bitches out, gotta buy 'em new clothes
Valet parking, open up suicide doors
Private mansions tucked off up in the Poconos
Shit, I'm blowing up the Rolls
I'm mad
'Cause I ain't a bitch to share no bag
And I ain't the kind of bitch you could drag
And I put that on my flag
You fuck ass nigga
I'll piss in your mouth, you lil' fuck boy
Disrespect a bad bitch, you get checked, boy
And don't you ever play games with my check, boy
'Cause I'm the queen of the board I checkmate, boy (Trina)

Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I'ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
You ain't finna have me sittin' around stressin'
Bitch, who the fuck you disrespecting?
Niggas ain't shit, his cards, I'ma spend those
I'ma slash his tires and I'ma bust out all his windows
Niggas ain't shit, his cards, I'ma spend those
I'ma slash his tires and I'ma bust out all his windows