When we ride on our enemies Fugees! Fugees and Mobb Deep tryin to diss now too huh? Hahaha! Well I ain't prejudiced, I don't give a fuck fuck This is what it sounds like - when we ride on our enemies BEYOTCH! When we ride on our enemies HEYYYY! Got some

Couple niggas switched up, bitched up, fuck 'em 'em I can't go nowhere without a pistol or a rubber I'm too, too player to put a bitch before my brother I'm too street smart, nigga, to serve a undercover I'm a street nigga, yeah I'm famous I'm a rapper,

That's why I ain't got no time For these games and stupid tricks All these bitches on my dick That's how dudes be gettin' sick That's how dicks be gettin' drips Fallin' victims to this shit From these bitches on our dicks Fuckin' chickens with no ribs

Must be love on the brain That's got me feeling this way (feeling this way) No matter what It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good No matter what I do, I'm no good without you Must be love, must be love Mu-mu-must be love, love, love, love,

Stay in the cut on the Northside Hollowpoints, trigger fingers On my fucking .45 Demons rising out the crypt I snort me a fat line Never gave a fuck fuck Grew up out the mud Pull up, then I pop the trunk Grew up with the fucking robbers Always kept the mask on

Two...three...four...I drank all my fuckin' brew and I ain't gots no more... Feeling so damn tired Running on desperate fumes For the end is Always near, now Empty handed It's always soon Psychocise me

My bitches, bad (Bitch!) And she ain't going for that (Naw!) Got every color Birkin bag (Every color) Just to make them bitches mad (Mad!) Balmains on her ass Booty so big got to look when she pass I'm a let her drive the Bentley (Bentley!) Fuck Fuck it might

It look like I been cookin', it look like I been cookin' Bad bitches, fuckin' everyone of 'em 'em Ten chains, rockin' everyone of 'em 'em I'm in the club, bitches beggin' me to shoot 'em 'em up With the seventeens, sixteens, there ain't a new one up Summer's gone

I think I like that Sweat on demand Yo, I'm Cardi B with the wicked flow Ask them, I keep them niggas on their tippy toes Nick-nack-paddy-wack, give a dog a bone Got him runnin' home, fuck fuck him good, get that money flow Pussy got him goin' places he would

People say I'm no good Write me off, oh yes they should Fuck 'em 'em they're just sick in the head They're writing my history Think somebody should've asked me Everyone was safe in their beds I won't live, won't live like them