lakeyah – real bitch lyrics
real b+tches back in
i came here to win, you hoes came here to pretend
i’ma show you rap hoes how to get y’all sh+t off
yeah
first thing first (huh?)
i ain’t gotta f+ck a rap n+gga for a verse (not at all)
and i ain’t never let a n+gga treat me for a purse
so all you unemployed hoes, come and get this work (work)
you b+tches sleezy, this sh+t way to easy
city lil’ me, i’m puttin’ on like jeezy (i’m puttin’ on)
i ain’t asthmatic, but this spit game wheezy (hah+hah)
put these rap hoes on the plate just to feed me, i’m gettin’ greedy
i’m big key (yeah)
i’m not sweet, i check hoes (check ’em)
steady sh+ttin’ on these b+tches, where the pepto
your n+gga want a taste, i give him wet nose
takin’ b+tches’ n+ggas, ho you lucky if you make it home
i’ma real b+tch (real b+tch), don’t fold
f+ck a n+gga get paid, that’s code (that’s code)
i don’t choose, bad b+tches get chose
these hoes way too weak, i’m cold
i’ma real b+tch (real b+tch), don’t fold
f+ck a n+gga get paid, that’s code (that’s code)
i don’t choose, bad b+tches get chose
these hoes way too weak, i’m cold
i’ma real b+tch, with a real bag
ayy, word to miami, b+tch, i’m real bad
new n+gga, new money that’s a real grab
i ain’t stuntin’ no n+gga that i been had (gloss)
i’ma real b+tch, you a fake b+tch, red flag (red flag)
what you doin’? nothin’ sh+t, makin’ hoes mad (on god)
b+tch, i just signed with qc and got a big bag (big bag)
and finna show you why these ratchet b+tches real bad
watch me take yo’ n+gga, like i take his d+ck
he want dog ass b+tch, until i show him some tricks (come here)
i’m a big dog, b+tch, don’t compare me to simps (don’t compare me, ho)
my two kids was born rich, why you work at a temp’?
i’ma real b+tch (real b+tch), don’t fold
f+ck a n+gga get paid, that’s code (that’s code)
i don’t choose, bad b+tches get chose
these hoes way too weak, i’m cold
i’ma real b+tch (real b+tch), don’t fold
f+ck a n+gga get paid, that’s code (that’s code)
i don’t choose, bad b+tches get chose
these hoes way too weak, i’m cold
my neck and my wrist
he ain’t gotta cheque, he ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh+t
d+gg+n’ these n+ggas every time that i spit
say he want lakeyah, i done came up on a l!ck
ice out my neck, and my wrist
he ain’t gotta cheque, he ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh+t
d+gg+n’ these n+ggas every time that i spit
say he want lakeyah, i done came up on a l!ck
n+gga, run me that sh+t
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