b*tch Yeah lyrics

[Intro]
(Timmy Da HitMan)
Huh, what?
What? What? What? What? What?
What? What?

[Verse 1]
What's crackin'? What? (What?)
Or whatever I'm brackin' on, b*tch
Yeah, that my blood (That my blood)
I got all Fives 'round this b*tch
These hoes wan' f*ck, these n*ggas can't f*ck with none of us in this b*tch
I'ma hit at your clique with the stick (Baow)
Make me turn your lil' boys to a lick (A lick)
I got stripper big booty b*tches blowin' up on my phone
Too much swag, stylist come, I try on clothes inside of my home
Put yo' b*tch in VLONE
b*tch, play what you please long as you don't put no QC on
b*tch, I make you bleed, ho
b*tch, I know I bleed, ho
Bang red, five, big B, ho (Oh, yeah)
b*tch, get on your knees, ho (Yeah, yeah)
Come on, suck it with no teeth, ho (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'm rich, I'm rich, I'm rich, b*tch, I'm rich as sh*t
Come get it, got her wit' it
Know I got her wit' me, n*gga, come and get your b*tch
Molly, Molly, Holly, Wolly, hottie thottiе wit' a badass body
I don't play that sh*t, I keep that chopper
I might buy me a Maserati
Shoot that drum at that b*tch, it's stock
'Forе I give you my sh*t, you know I'ma pop it
b*tch, give me yo' soul, give me yo' body
Swag up the b*tch, pop off her mama
I get high in this b*tch, on soul
I'm so high in this b*tch, I'm gone (Ha)
I might make her pass a n*gga, b*tch, come touch her toes (Ha)
Still'll make a R&B b*tch come here and hand off her phone
Give a f*ck 'bout how good she can sing, b*tch, get that phone, yeah
[Bridge]
b*tch, get that phone, ho
Huh, b*tch, get that phone, yeah-yeah (b*tch, give me your phone)
Huh, b*tch, get that phone, ho
b*tch, get that phone, oh yeah-yeah-yeah

[Verse 2]
My brothers, they kick in that door (Yeah-yeah)
I don't like that n*gga or ho (Yeah-yeah)
I don't like that lil' boy or his b*tch
I do not like my ho for to hear none of these songs
Like when I breakin' her back to my songs
Makin' these b*tches stack racks at home
Clingy type of time you on
Buy me clothes that fit me right
I don't know who f*ckin' side you on
I just know if it's wrong, it ain't real right
I ain't f*ckin' on her every night
I ain't put money on yo' head, that's right
Bang red, that blood, my thug, my Five
You know slime could get this party hype
Shootout, soon as I get outside
Rudolph, beam on his nose and eyes
Chew-out, which one gon' eat me right?
Geeker than geeked, I'm higher than high, uh-huh
I'm more geeked up than geeked, and I'm higher than high, b*tch
I get higher with her when I'm shoppin' online, b*tch, yeah
I can get out my words through this every time (b*tch, yeah)
Yeah, and this b*tch here again without you on my side (b*tch, yeah)
Yeah, on my side, b*tch, don't play around mine, and you know you might die (b*tch, yeah)
I got factory tires on bottom of each of my rides (b*tch, yeah)
I got factory tires on bottom of each of my rides (b*tch, yeah)
[Outro]
I got more money, you lil' boys, y'all some b*tches (b*tch, yeah)
I can't even drive and got more cars, your sh*t is leased or rented (b*tch, yeah)
Know we make sh*t hot, pop out Rolls Royce, on back got switches (b*tch, yeah)
I don't give no f*ck 'bout who a star, I don't want you b*tches (b*tch, yeah)