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trai'd - gutta bitch (remix) lyrics

that’s why i love her-
she my gutta’ b-tch
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she my gutta’ b-tch
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
that’s my gutta’ b-tch- that’s my gutta’ b-tch- that’s my gutta’ b-tch

that’s why i love her- she my gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
she my gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
she bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
yeah!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch

i- i love her- she my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she my gutta’ b-tch
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch

[verse 1: trai’d]
aye, say-
where all my gutta’ chicks at?
where my peeps fly?
from florida to alabama, georgia, louisiana-
missouri do ya’ hear me- they some bad mamajamas
from texas to oklahoma- mississippi kinda bad
i been all across the globe and i can tell you where they at
tennessee to carolinas- carry some of the finest little baddest and the hottest-
got a body of a goddess
i’m back and with the best-
best!
and i put that on everything-
curly- ace- bun b- trina- an’ hurricane!

[verse 2: hurricane chris]
(inaudible)
ain’t n0body got to ask her who she wit- five hundred g’s and i need good homes
and i had to get a 4-1-1 900 before i let her get a number to my phone-
i’m so cold even if my gutta’ chicken ain’t got no pockets- her pockets are on swoll
she brangin’ protection and snappin’ on whoever look at her wrong
i don’t be trippin’ she handle all her business like she grown
when i get visits from other chickens she don’t thank that i’m wrong
i suppose, she don’t like it when i’m away too long

that’s why i love her- she my gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
she my gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
she bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
gutta’!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch

[verse 3: trina]
uh huh- trina- yea
i’ma help my n-gga go an get this cheese-
gutta’ chick- that’s right, that’s me
ova’ the stove- cookin’ dem bricks
f-ck the feds- don’t snap, no cl!cks…
i’ma ride or die till the wheels fall off
and if he get caught- i’ma pay the cost
he’s the boss and i’m his chick- and i’mma do whateva’ so we stay rich
feds askin’- tryin’ to build him a case-
tell ’em ‘gutta’ gutta’ better get out my face!’
interrogating- i ain’t with that
like i’m dumb, say ‘yea, i sling that.’
i don’t know jack and i’m no rat- ain’t did sh-t and if i did then prove that
3-0-5 i’m that chick and i’mma ride (inaudible)

[verse 4: ace hood]
i like dem g-u-t-t-a- she move dem bricks let me get that k
and she bad gotta see her shape- gotta see her face- don’t f-ck wit fake
bet it all dog- my b-tch don’t play- look at dem tattoos on her face
b-tch got a problem- catch a case- f-ck that mink she tote dem k’s
it could free up everyday just to weave it up in braids
get her toes and nails done- gotta’ show dem b-tches self-made
she’s so g-u-t-t-a- roll that dope and blow for days
got a whip on 26 with a halle berry face-
and uh-

[verse 5: bun b]
she a bad little boppa’- a real show stoppa’
i love when she drop herself to da floor an pop up
back to the beat- movein’ fasta’ than a choppa’
i betcha she could break a trill playa’ off propa’
about to get up on it shawty- ain’t no hesitating
i been lookin’ at ya’ body all night and i been waitin’
i see dem boys standin’ on the sidelines hatin’
i rather 1 and 8 an watch’em all start skatein’
it’s u-g-k for life, r.i.p. to sweet jones
now pop it for da pimp- go get your boogie on
i’m all about the dome like an old school strobe
so all gutta’ chicks get down on da dance flo’

that’s why i love her- she my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch

i-i why i love her- she my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
she bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
bad- that’s my my gutta’ b-tch
aye!
gotta’ gutta’ b-tch
i love her

- traid lyrics

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