I DONT TRUST MY b*tch / OLD RED lyrics

Part I:

[Intro]
You in a drought!
I don't trust my b*tch
E-ever
n*gga, you don't love your baby mama, n*gga, you love me, b*tch! (Huh, huh, yeah)

[Verse]
I don't trust my b*tch
She don't trust me either
Booted up in the bed, she was geeked up on sativa
Damn, b*tch, you a diva
Hide all my jewelry when I go to sleep at night cause
I don't trust my b*tch
I don't trust no b*tch
n*gga, I don't trust you either, n*gga, or these slime ass b*tches, you a pus*y ass n*gga (Ever)
I don't even trust these b*tches I'm with, n*gga
You a broke ass, lil' di*k ass n*gga (Yeah, yeah)
The f*ck? (Go)
b*tch can't get my last
b*tches mad at me 'cause I won't pay cash for ass
'Leventh grade, sellin' hydrocodones in class
Look like a regular blick, you press this button, it's gon' blast (Flrrt!)
I've never seen my b*tch house
Made a b*tch come to me every time
Peanut, I need all them phones
Sticks and stones might break my bones, that's why I keep chrome
I dropped a b*tch off right in the kitchen
So many plays on the phone, start glitchin'
"He say, she say," bullsh*t
Came back to me one-hundred percent fiction
Patek Phillipe, never had me a Nixon
I fell in love with a video vixen
I never go to sleep in front my b*tches
Trust in the process, believe in the vision
[Part II]

[Verse]
I got a thick b*tch poppin' off two valiums
Halfway sleep while slidin'
This b*tch think I'm childish
Put my foot on her head, and her back like Goblin
I need an old school '64
Ride around town, MAC-10 on my right hip
Back in my days, all the Glocks had a long clip
Back in my, back in my, back in my, back in my
Back on my old b*tch, spinnin' the curb
Off of the syrup, I'm slurrin' my words
Fill my 'script, my b*tch like percs
I'm with Draft Day, we don't f*ck with you nerds
I was eighteen with a dub in my jeans
Muslim lil' b*tch like to call me, "Kareem"
Alhamdulillah, I just popped me a bean
[?] in my hand, I'ma [?] like [?]
Reckless as hell, put my foot on her head
Jump on that b*tch like an old trampoline
Really too rich, my new b*tch is a fiend
Pretty as hell, she in love with Bottega
Come to the 'crete, gotta meet The Omega
Concrete boys, we the new takers
Soon as he shoot, gon' give him hell
Brand new brick, brand new bale
Hear y'all just came up an M
Hmm, really? I can't tell
Still, free all of my brims
Still, molly in my Timb's
Still, six hoes on my line
Treat them just like Sims
Let's flip a coin for your b*tch, like a kickoff
She wanna f*ck me, she takin' my Rick off
Upset as hell, gotta go get this sh*t off
Might drop the top on the east, let the stick off
Posted outside had to get me a—
I had to get me a fit off
Really too rich, I had got me assistants
Got me two sisters, suck on my pickle
Snuck in the club with that [?] nickel
f*ckin' a substitute teacher from Brickle
Stopped drinkin' lean, but if P pull up with some old red
sh*t, I might have me a little