Bourbon lyrics

[Intro]
Goddamn
Y'all hoes watch everything l do
Ol' creep-ass, freak-ass, peepin' tom-ass b*tch (Hahaha)
(B-B-Bankroll got it) Ayy, hmm

[Verse 1]
I ain't got beef with nobody 'bout sh*t ('Bout sh*t)
We all know who the it b*tch is (Hmm)
Y'all keep arguin' 'bout edited pics (Edited pics)
Ask my accountant, he'll tell you it's lit (Mwah)
b*tch goin' live from that dirty-ass crib (Ew)
Think you my opp, but it's all in your head (It's all in yo' head)
Outdoin' any b*tch comin' for Meg (Yeah)
I sell out arenas, the f*ck is you sayin'? (Yeah, ah)
They give 'em a cookie for comin' for me, but won't give 'em a stream, won't invest in a team
Mission accomplished, you got your lil' comments
But all of that hatin' ain't buy you a thing (Buy you a thing)
All of this love bought me a chain (Yeah)
M for a show and I bought me a ring (Baow)
b*tches buy ass and ain't fixin' the face (Yeah, yeah)
If you comin' for me, bеtter pick up your pace, hmm
Hot Girl Productions, head of thе label (Head of the label)
Nothin' but hits comin' out of the stable (Yeah)
Shout out to God 'cause He set up the table
Own everything, everybody ain't able
Clearly we know who been taking the payments
We see who name bring the clicks and engagement (Hmm)
We know the people in blogs with arrangements (Hmm)
I know the ones that ain't bout what they claimin' (Ah)
Man, f*ck these b*tches, f*ck these n*ggas, f*ck they feelings (f*ck they feelings)
Way too much di*k-eatin' on Twitter
On rap n*gga di*k, a punk-ass n*gga dinner (Yeah, yeah)
n*ggas ain't makin' these labels no money (Hmm)
Everything they make goin' straight to the dealer
I wear rocks, b*tch, I feel like Jigga
A real bombshell, gettin' turnt in the villa, ah (Yeah, yeah)
Smoother than Jergens, clean like detergent
b*tch, I ain't f*ckin', I'm workin' (I'm workin', hmm)
If these n*ggas weren't tellin' my business, damn near thought I was perfect, hmm
He text me say, "911," he need this pus*y urgent (Do)
These b*tches ain't built like me, they tryna find a surgeon, hmm (Ah)
b*tch, these n*ggas love this ass, I ain't finna stop twerkin', hmm (Yeah)
b*tch, I'm so in love with this money, I ain't never finna stop workin', hm (Workin')
I've been ballin' for so long, I think I'm Kyrie Irving
I'm a tall drink of water, pus*y like a shot of bourbon, ah
[Interlude]
Hmm, you know
I'm sick of you motherf*ckers actin' like I don't be rappin' my ass off, hmm
I know a booth hate to see one of you non-rappin' ass b*tches comin', hahaha

[Verse 2]
I slang more chicken heads than Roscoes (Roscoes)
More blue in my thread than an iPhone, hmm
These hoes fake hard like a strap on (Hmm)
Hermès, every color in the Pantone (Yeah)
I buck on that di*k like I'm half horse (Ah)
Ass sittin' up high like a minotaur (Yeah)
b*tch need a pen pal, can't spit a bar (Hmm)
Spit your best when you're tryna get a n*gga off
They be clappin' for b*tches that do the bare minimum
Come to me, everybody get critical (Why?)
They be forcin' the hate and it's pitiful (Hmm)
b*tches lame and I don't wanna sit with 'em (Nope)
b*tches mouse and I don't wanna click with 'em (Nope)
Comin' for me like I'm putting di*k in 'em (Ugh)
They compare you to me, you a synonym (Hmm)
I'm producing these b*tches like Timbaland
P-p-p-p-pop it back (Back)
Hear how that pus*y smack (Ah)
f*ckin' hoes that wanna be me (Wanna be me)
He want some copy cat (Copy cat)
Ooh, you thought you really made it (You did)
I know these b*tches mad (b*tches mad)
All these lil' hoes come and go (Hmm)
Like they be sellin' ass (Baow)
LV, rainbow print, that's vintage
I ain't even ask how much, just spent it (Just spent it)
Bought it in Japan so a b*tch can't get this (Yeah, yeah)
Lil' ass bag, couldn't make me your mistress (Make me your mistress)
All my accounts got all my interest (Yeah)
On my own mood board on Pinterest (On Pinterest)
Givin' out work, don't need no assistants (Hey, hey)
Ain't a b*tch pen out this vicious (Ah)
[Outro]
Hmm, and if you sick of me, b*tch, you better stay on bed rest
'Cause I'm finna f*ck up the rest of your year, hahaha
Bye
Mwah