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trina - gone mad lyrics

i’m a little foreign red bone, cause everything’s foreign
and if i’m not out shopping, then i’m overseas touring
yeah, b-tch, i’m out touring, foreign seas is where i’m snoring.
you b-tches’ life boring, i’m the only b-tch scoring.
i’m a louis vuitton killer, casket fresh killer
make ’em send me rose,
where them racks are, n-gg-?
i’m a legend in the flesh, 305, what up, n-gg-?
now i’m looking at your n-gg-,
where them racks are, n-gg-?
first off, don’t play with hoes,
i sl-t the hoe and that’s case closed,
this is the taste of…
he don’t talk to me without bankrolls.
got money trees and my leaves grow
like christmas, i chin gold.
bails needed them wrists on
no kissing me, mistletoe!
thinking about this money,
i’m dreaming racks, big money
so what a f-ck you’re talking about?
b-tch, if you wait, talking money!
cause i need a lot of my bad b-tch
i’m going under his matress
i’m taking all that i came for,
now that’s what you call a bad b-tch.
bad b-tch, sad b-tch, don’t f-ck around like the cat b-tch
everything i do, i landish,
my dinero speaking spanish.
you rap b-tches is silly, i’m turned up, i’m illy
b-tch, i’ve been made an illy,
now i’m going after a billy.
i’m riding round with that nina
cruising trolling my beamer,
she .. me, i ain’t seen her,
now follow after your leader.
ain’t no time left for your meet up,
got my own lane, no cheater
it’s shark time, you b-tches!
swim closer, i’m an eater.
so don’t make me go deeper,
and turn to the grand ripper
i’m booming, b-tches, i’m a sweeper,
burning haters into believers.
my p-ssport and my visa,
my black card and no visa
relax, i got my feet up,
and i won’t decide of no pre-nup.

hook:
cause i’m thinking about this money,
and i’m thinking about it bad.
and if you ain’t thinking money, then you probably doing
i need a hundred k or better, to complement my swag
cause somebody gonna feel it,
bad b-tch gone mad!
i’m thinking about this money,
and i’m thinking about it bad.
and if you ain’t thinking money, then you probably doing
i need a hundred k or better, to complement my swag
cause somebody gonna feel it,
bad b-tch gone mad!

young b-tch just gone mad (mad)…
what a f-ck you’re talking out fast
you ain’t really about that laugh.
i want that gucci, that louis, that prada, that louis vuitton
you’re trying to sue me, i call up…
trying to figure out why these hoes still hating
let a b-tch shine, you know you’re outdated
been on my grind, i’ve been waiting,
approximately five years in a business.
i’m on my share, i needed, zero comas repeated
yo wify wanna beat me
she heard i was on in tv.
hold up, that’s your hoe?
that’s my hoe, too!
her main n-gg-, my old news
your base… so old school.
i work into the mansion with 20 barrels and full pause
me and trina pull up in this fire when they come through.

- trina lyrics

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