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m child - dirty bitch (street) lyrics

[m-child] [chorus]

(dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch)
she’s a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
i heard your momma was a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
i heard your sister was a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
your grandmomma was a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
your baby-momma was a…

[m-child]

head, freaky hoes, if you want a big d-ck,
a n-gg- with some money but don’t ever buy you sh-t.
f-ckin’ in any position plus eatin’ up the nut quick,
a baller type from orange mound, m-child, b-tch.
hit me up on the h-rn, booty-calling at the frame,
i’ll be over in a jiffy what’s about some mary jane.
taking these hoes every time i tell ’em my name,
shake that hoes like i’m like michael jordan, ’cause i’ve got game.
keep my b-tches in line, like motherf-cking soul train,
get her a puh-perm for the kamikaze gang-bang.
camcorder on the dresser, i tell her whatever,
shake it sideways, taking off that tight black leather.
d-ck standing straight up, like a n-gg- in the marines,
b-lls hanging like the bandana tied on to my jeans.
i’ll be ready for war; your p-ssy wet, let’s get it on,
let me see how you’re working, yo, let my d-ck folly’ home.

[chorus x2]

[???]

tell me n-gg-, what makes a b-tch worth it to be called dirty?
the ones who wanna suck on my d-ck like i’m a slurpee?
or jerk it, i keep ’em work’ it, while my d-ck she can’t burn it,
packages going around town, n-gg-, i know you heard it.
money, she don’t deserve it; b-tch, they make us some work’ets,
the fact that she done f-cked the whole hood’s making me nervous.
saying she opened up a business.. b-tch, please, i never spend it,
kamikaze won’t buy, nor lease, or know where we rent it.
thought you had me, now didn’t you.. ’cause your p-ssy printed,
on them tight–ss capris, macking; n-gg-, break your knees.
mc h(?) i be, be spotting them dirty knees,
sort ’em out from the ones who be chewing through the holes in the sheets.
touch my d-ck like i sneeze, on a house like shami’s,
never sharing my trees, that’s for the clique not dirty.
asking me for some money; b-tch, don’t give me your keys.
it’s kamikaze for life and we talking your dirty knees.

[chorus x2]

[m-child]

to you haters, i got it made, ’bout b-tches, i’m getting paid,
stirring b-tches round and round, like i’m making kool-aid.
they be dropping off loot, once i tell them i think they cute,
and tell them a lie or two, introduce them to my crew.
stan man, mc mack, thugs from tha southside,
by the time i’m through explaining, big d-ck they wanna ride.
licking they lips, rubbing they tw-t, yo, come inside.
glow-in-the-dark rubber so they p-ssy can’t hide.
represent where you from, dirty b-tch, your mouth cold,
pain is all in your air, plus you got a corn-row.
i’m just like a leprechaun, where’s me pot of gold?
i’m trying to bust a million nuts before i get old.
never telling my biz, though with the sh-t they discuss,
you never catch me under your blanket licking your sh-t up.
i treat a hoe like a sl-t, when she be acting stuck-up,
coming with an att-tude, kamikaze don’t give a f-ck.
orange mound motherf-ckers never loving these hoes,
north memphis motherf-ckers never loving these hoes,
south memphis motherf-ckers never loving these hoes,
east memphis motherf-ckers never loving these hoes.

[chorus]

[m-child]

i heard trina was a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
i heard that tosha was a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
i heard tamaya was a dirty b-tch, a dirty b-tch,
i heard ayza was a dirty b-tch…

- m child lyrics

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