trinidad james – bitch please lyrics
feat. scotty atl, goldyard & 2$ fabo
(intro x3)
y’all n-gg-s ain’t sh-t
(hook x3)
i said come on, mane, please
y’all n-gg-s ain’t sh-t (b-tch, please!)
(verse)
come on, man, please, y’all n-gg-s is worst than these hoes
he ain’t got a real bone in yo back
instead he there lyin’ these hoes
he ain’t neva saw work on a corner
he ain’t neva had a rouch crout
you ? you ain’t neva had a struggle
he ain’t neva made a bad b-tch crout
pull up in the front, when they can see me,
you got the point out with the prove,
see these p-ss-es for a minute, i will come up in n-gg-s
i like p-ssy when it comin’ up, good thing comin’ up
i’mma tear a f-ckin’ someone up, believe me
run the rap game like dope with the bed piled up
and the scream like the motherf-cker doubled up
grind all night while the sun is up
game ico, better bundle up
(hook x5)
i said come on, mane, please
y’all n-gg-s ain’t sh-t (b-tch, please!)
(verse)
psychedelic, walkin’ like the ghost of elvis when a thot gon’ have me on a hologram
cram holidays in a rocket, higher than the law
then we mobbin’ with the squad, tears on the block
indoor, you know a n-gg- comin’ wit the far
couple down b-tches that’ll f-ck
to the b-tch n-gg-s two middle fingers up
three of us, dangerous, four five, hit ’em up
(verse)
east side b-tch, you can tell that she einstein
even legends gotta rethink they grind time
lesser arm is a lesser mind
killin’ sh-t hoe, but it’s a petty crime
weed got me chilling in these bars that i’m locked behind
him and i, aquemini
but a muf-cka still be walking around like jebidi
neck real chunky, all gold like it’s ’89
(hook x5)
i said come on, mane, please
y’all n-gg-s ain’t sh-t (b-tch, please!)
(verse)
now put yo hands in the air if you ain’t eva satisfied wit ya pocket
where the n-gg-s wit the shootaz on go,
what it is, they hit it, only one can stop you?
head from the biddie, get straight to the party
tell ’em i’dda rip, go pay for that buzznick
n-gg- motivate another motherf-cker
f-ck, n-gg-, ent-tled jet li
f-ck, sh-t, the n-gg-s ain’t sh-t
all wings on another n-gg- b-tch
all in the club, facin’ wit yo ball pen
y’all n-gg-s ain’t neva been rich
kn0ow how to turn a n-gg- into a brick
i turn the 3-5 of ’em, till a cousin had a pound
make money yo, with every bangin’ hip
(hook x5)
i said come on, mane, please
y’all n-gg-s ain’t sh-t (b-tch, please!)
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