b*tches lyrics

[Intro: Coco]
Popstar
Popstar Benny
It finna ‘bout to snap the tea

[Verse 1: Coco]
I’m not the one the two or the third
b*tches be cluck clucking, oh that’s a bird
No time for the bullsh*t so f*ck what you heard
Hoes wait ’til I dump a guy so they can get a turn
Checkin’ on me so they can see what I be doing
Always on the grind, always fine
That’s how I be moving
Checkin’ on me, real sexy
These hoes they be losing
Fake nights and fake likes
Who do they be fooling?

[Verse 2: Clair Clair]
The only bread you pussies get is a yeast infection
I’m with bad boys and mеan girls in the VIP section
I’m a big shark and my body’s perfеction
I could never sweat a b*tch who talks sh*t for attention

[Verse 3: Marjorie Sinclair]
Big trouble innat lul China
Baby stick and move unless you wanna die
Baby pick and choose ‘cus I made up my mind
The way she jivin’ to it was a f*ckin’ vibe
She had me kinda zooted, can’t imagine why
My baby mind in ruins from them city lights
Baby kinda losin’ me, she knew I tried
I made the time for truth but she still told a lie
Living lavish baby, got a lotta guala
She my Bangkok dangerous take no chances
Prolly call my baby b*tch cus she my bottom dollar
b*tch in triple trouble, Coco, Clair, ‘n Marjorie
Damsel in distress, she callin’ out to God
I turnt them rags to riches made my family proud
I sailed a thousand seas ‘n seen a thousand islands
I lived a thousand lives before I found my calling
[Verse 4: Clair Clair]
The Prada the Louis, both mine
Your man and his friend, both mine
Kissing my ass full time ‘cus I look the same offline
Pathological liar
b*tch you’re flat like a tire

[Verse 5: Coco]
Girl built like a vape pen and think that she compare
These hoes be fried like the tips of their hair
But me? I’m not worried bout a dill pickle b*tch
Swagless while she’s copying my fit

[Outro: Coco & Marjorie Sinclair]
Oh I think they like me, always trying to bite me
Got the recipe and it still don’t come out like me
Oh I think they like me, always trying to bite me (Living lavish baby, got a lotta guala. She my Bangkok dangerous take no chances)
Got the recipe and it still don’t come out like me (Prolly call my baby b*tch cus she my bottom dollar. b*tch in triple trouble, Coco, Clair, ‘n Marjorie)
Damsel in distress, she callin’ out to God
I turnt them rags to riches made my family proud
I sailed a thousand seas ‘n seen a thousand islands
I lived a thousand lives before I found my calling (yeah)