Bitches Stuck Wit Us
Lyrics
(We love you mikebeast)
Not for real, before the deal, youngin had it jumpin' off for real
Before the deal, youngin had some money, I mean
Objective for the week, five P's, twenty-eight
Bitch, I'm talkin' twenty-eight, a piece five hundred
I probably have mad money, PJ's
We gon' split this shit three ways, youngins turnt
Hey, I ain't fuck her, I fucked her ten million
Reason why I'm never in my feelings, CMG
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Nah for real
In my feels
Imma go down
Imma go
Imma kneel
Imma make a deal
Make the jump shot
On da the yacht
Hit the spot
Me and dug
All above
We some thugs
Ain't no drugs
He got mugged
Gotta heal
Ain't gon' steal
Smokin pot
Wit the thots
They so hot
New flow
Getting dough
Getting hoes
I was low
In the snow
This a show
Verse off the dome
Yeah we home
In the streets
Making beats
Every week
Pay day
World so gray
Imma slay
Fuckin' bars
Fancy cars
These are ours
We work hard
Millionaire
I don't care
Yeah I swear
Life ain't fair
Say a prayer, uh
Life ain't fair
Say a prayer, yeah
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
(We love you mikebeast)
Not for real, before the deal, youngin had it jumpin' off for real
Before the deal, youngin had some money, I mean
Objective for the week, five P's, twenty-eight
Bitch, I'm talkin' twenty-eight, a piece five hundred
I probably have mad money, PJ's
We gon' split this shit three ways, youngins turnt
Hey, I ain't fuck her, I fucked her ten million
Reason why I'm never in my feelings, CMG
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Nah for real
In my feels
Imma go down
Imma go
Imma kneel
Imma make a deal
Make the jump shot
On da the yacht
Hit the spot
Me and dug
All above
We some thugs
Ain't no drugs
He got mugged
Gotta heal
Ain't gon' steal
Smokin pot
Wit the thots
They so hot
New flow
Getting dough
Getting hoes
I was low
In the snow
This a show
Verse off the dome
Yeah we home
In the streets
Making beats
Every week
Pay day
World so gray
Imma slay
Fuckin' bars
Fancy cars
These are ours
We work hard
Millionaire
I don't care
Yeah I swear
Life ain't fair
Say a prayer, uh
Life ain't fair
Say a prayer, yeah
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Money bad, youngster me and G fuck with us
If it's up with us, bitches stuck with us
Writer(s): Dion Hayes, Michael Florio
Copyright(s): Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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