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lil yachty – i dont trust my bitch / old red lyrics

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part i:

you in a drought!
i don’t trust my b+tch
e+ever
n+gga, you don’t love your baby mama, n+gga, you love me, b+tch! (huh, huh, yeah)
i don’t trust my b+tch
she don’t trust me either
booted up in the bed, she was geeked up on sativa
d+mn, b+tch, you a diva
hide all my jewelry when i go to sleep at night cause
i don’t trust my b+tch
i don’t trust no b+tch
n+gga, i don’t trust you either, n+gga, or these slime ass b+tches, you a p+ssy ass n+gga (ever)
i don’t even trust these b+tches i’m with, n+gga
you a broke ass, lil’ d+ck ass n+gga (yeah, yeah)
the f+ck? (go)
b+tch can’t get my last
b+tches mad at me ’cause i won’t pay cash for ass
‘leventh grade, sellin’ hydrocodones in class
look like a regular bl!ck, you press this b+tton, it’s gon’ blast (flrrt!)
i’ve never seen my b+tch house
made a b+tch come to me every time
peanut, i need all them phones
sticks and stones might break my bones, that’s why i keep chrome
i dropped a b+tch off right in the kitchen
so many plays on the phone, start glitchin’
“he say, she say,” bullsh+t
came back to me one+hundred percent fiction
patek phillipe, never had me a nixon
i fell in love with a video vixen
i never go to sleep in front my b+tches
trust in the process, believe in the vision
part ii:

i got a thick b+tch poppin’ off 2 valiums
halfway sleep while slidin’
this b+tch think i’m childish
put my foot on her head, and her back like goblin
i need an old school ’64
ride around town, mac+10 on my right hip
back in my days, all the glocks had a long clip
back in my, back in my, back in my, back in my
back on my old b+tch, spinnin’ the curb
off of the syrup, i’m slurrin’ my words
fill my ‘script, my b+tch like percs
i’m with draft day, we don’t f+ck with you nerds
i was 18 with a dub in my jeans
muslim lil’ b+tch like to call me, “kareem”
[?], i just popped me a bean
[?] in my hand, i’ma [?] like [?]
reckless as h+ll, put my foot on her head
jump on that b+tch like an old trampoline
really too rich, my new b+tch is a fiend
pretty as h+ll, she in love with bottega
come to the ‘crete, gotta meet the omega
concrete boys, we the new takers
[?] gon’ give him h+ll
brand new brick, brand new bale
hear y’all just came up an m
hmm, really? i can’t tell
still, free all of my brims
still, molly in my timb’s
still, six hoes on my line
treat them just like sims
let’s flip a coin for your b+tch, like a kickoff
she wanna f+ck me, she takin’ my rick off
upset as h+ll, gotta go get this sh+t off
might drop the top on the east, let the stick off
posted outside had to get me a+
i had to get me a fit off
really too rich, i had got me assistants
got me two sisters, suck on my pickle
snuck in the club with that [?] nickel
f+ckin’ a substitute teacher from brickle
stopped drinkin’ lean, but if p pull up with some old red
sh+t, i might have me a little



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