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ANDRE NICKATINA lyrics - Booty Star: Glock Tawk

Baddest Bitch On The Planet

Original and similar lyrics
Could you be the baddest bitch up in the world? Money ain't a thing whip cream with a swirl Baby you could ball or bounce Lip gloss, floss up your mouth Can I get the keys to your house? Your skin color keep 'em in a daze It's somethin like a maze All bad bitches get paid Baby you can put me in your grand design By lookin in my eyes for the dollar signs Because your face so bright like Las Vegas nights Fill 'moe down rap cat in yo life Man other bitches hate all the time Bitches tell lies Feet hurt cause they wear the wrong shoe size But yours is a body like a cruise How could you lose? Go and get the money from the foo's Man everything back there is jelly Made for those five star tellys Cats can't wait to spend bread Bitch go ahead Do it like Simon Says If it don't hurt it ain't done Arch your back out I'll pull a stack out that'll blow your back out I like when your hair run wild in the wind You and your girlfriend act like twins But could you be the baddest bitches on the planet? You got it goin on to where you man can't stand it Well I'm not him Leave that cat Tell him you a ho and you like it like that You think I don't like ya You got it all wrong I get goose bumps when I see that you call You know that I'll ball like Barkley Charles People like to stare when you walk through the halls Put some steel in your heels Chase the dollar bills and give it to a playa that's real Because ya at least once a week she like to kiss another freak Fine ass bitches sometimes don't speak But bitch don't run from the ism The ism ain't a track star leanin in a fat car Bitches know I charge I'm not a matador so you know I don't bull Real bitches like to stay paid in full Man, I don't do favors This ain't no caper Get my paper Leather black calf high boots Stuffed with loot Attract those men in the business suits You know I'm gonna lace you with game Andre Nicky is the name Dope bitch Could you be the baddest bitch that exist? Always top five in every cats list It's never hit or miss you my bitch Even Santa Claus gotta spend chips It's a cold winter I'm cold when I go get her She wear t-shirt and panties that don't fit her And I'm gonna get at least a rack you best believe that I holla bout scratch like a real rap cat I get it off top man like it or not I let my perm blow in my homie's drop top She latch like a garter belt make a trick heart melt First rate, high rate And he's heart felt You's a bad bitch you know I gotta say this You'd be somethin that I wanna run away with But until then tell your boyfriend It's quick cause I'm a bitch I'm not your girlfriend

High So High

SOUTH PARK MEXICAN "The Third Wish-To Rock The World"
'High So High' (feat. Marilyn Rylander) [First Verse: (SPM)] I'ma roll 84's til' them hoes start clackin Put 'em on they back and got 'em askin' 'What happened?' Homie was crackin', it's good to be back See me on the slab with a beautiful 'llac If you wanna jack, I got somethin for you Caught another case, so I gotta call my lawyer Got a fine chick that look just like LaToya And I bet fifty G's on my boy De La Hoya Tryin' to stay free with the loot they pay me Boy I'ma vet and you still a trainee Ballin' daily with my green lady She asked what have I done for her lately? I'ma dog like Scrappy, my girl tried to slap me Caught her by the hand and told her 'Don't get happy' Still sport khakis, got the Savvy Yola Mr. High-Roller movin Coca-Cola While I stay... [Chorus (Marilyn Rylander)] High so high.....reachin' for the sky High so high.....please don't blow my high [Second Verse (SPM):] I feel off the wagon, dickies still saggin Blow more smoke than Puff the Dragon Choppin' big things, but you never hear me braggin Pick your chick up and it's gonna be a stabbin Haters get mad and they want my autograph Let me hear you rap, man I promise not to laugh Walked the wrong path when I went and bought a half Sold out on the cut, now it's time to call a cab Stop at Chimmy Changs for the wings and rice Then to the store, I need a forty and some dice What they hittin' for? Come out with Little Joe Can you play five-hundred on a what? Ten or four? Let'em go, let'em go, boys start leavin Hillwood Hustla, never caught sleepin Bobbin' and weavin', still block bleedin' Ain't gonna quit til' you haters stop breathin' And I stay [Chorus] [Third Verse (SPM):] Who said money didn't grow on trees? I came up slangin' them coca leaves Many stories about territories At the Dopehouse, we don't call the Police Feel a cold breeze when I get below freeze Got no love for you studio G's I buy four Jeeps and I got a gold leash But what the Hell is money if you got no peace? Homies in the back and they ready to attack And we don't go to clubs where you can't wear your hat Homie where you at? Represent, where you from? Land of Dum-Dum where you don't dare to come All you jealous boys is tryin' to destroy us Run you out my city like the Tennessee Oilers Got nothin' for us, listen to my chorus While I sit back and blaze a damned forest Stayin' so... [Chorus (2x)] [SPM] Mr. S-P-M And you know it don't stop... For all my playa partners Dopehouse baby, We don't quit...we ain't goin' nowhere, MAN!

It's About That Money

[Puffy] Yo Short man I was with this chick last night She was like, hey Diddy, ummm Diddy Why you so motherfuckin' fly I had to tell her bitch I'm just about that paper beotch [Female Singer] (Puffy) It's about that paper (Make it hot) If it's about that bullshit (Make it stop) If you got that paper we can roll No time for hataz , gotta go [Too Short] I flew to L.A. just last week Jumped in the limo, checked in the suite Made a few calls, it's time to go Bust a few rhymes at the studio You know I don't do it for the love of it I love it but I do it for the love I get Big checks, you think the sex is next When I left the studio I had to go do a show for the ten with the triple zeros That's why I never flipped with kilos Flew up to the bay, then back to Georgia Had to catch a flight to Tallahassee, Florida I did a show at the Kapa luau Short dog what'cha about to do now? I'm getting money, caught a flight to New York Just another day in the life of Too Short 1 - [Female Singer] (Puffy) It's about that paper (Make it hot) If it's about that bullshit (Make it stop) If you got that paper we can roll No time for hataz , gotta go It's about that money (Make it hot) Got to keep it coming (Make it stop) Niggaz hate us all day long (We can roll) Cause we get our paper all night long (Gotta go) [Puffy] Everything I do is a world premiere I know you're not trying to front girl come here I get up early in the morning work late at night So when you talk about me you say it right I get my pimp on whenever I get on Pop, Rock, Rap, R&B it's a hit song I keep it moving no matter what your age Bitches screaming out 'Puff Daddy's on stage' Breaking necks, cashing checks When I'm not making money I'm having sex International, superstar People wanna know just who you are I'm that laid jet rider Mansion residing If I throw a party you'll be dancing all night and Let's have some fun girl, it's ok I work hard now it's time to play Come on Repeat 1 [Too Short] I did a lot of work for the homies for the low-low But I doing that kind of shit no more Ask Puff, fuck all that retirement stuff I work to hard so the price went up I'm charging fifty for sixteen bars now If you want a whole song it's a hundred thou Is it worth it? I ain't no crook A hundred thousand dollars might get you a hook From this nigga right here, I know you know And you gotta pay extra for the video So cut the check for the right amount If not, you can wire it to my account The only other way is to pay me cash And ain't nothing wrong with that In fact give me the scratch in big stacks Cause you're fucking with a real mack bitch get back Back, bitch get back, back Said bitch, said bitch said get your motherfuckin' ass back That's right Repeat 1 [Too Short] (Puffy) That's right So if you want me to do a guest appearance on your next album Just remember one thing It's gonna cost you man' Cause we gettin' our money on That's right Short Dog in the house (Yeah) P Diddy in the house Short Records, Bad Boy (Bad Boy) Yeah that's right 2 - [Female Singer] Too Short, Too Short Gotta make that money 2000 Watts, 2000 Watts Gotta make that money Bad Boy, Bad Boy Gotta cash that money Gotta make that money, money Gotta take, gotta make, gotta catch that money, money Repeat 2 [Puff Daddy] Yeah, yeah

My Baby'z Mama

EAZY-E "Str8 Off Tha Streetz of Muthaphukkin Compton"
[I'm sittin here writin a song about baby'z mothers who try to sue the daddies for child support. Even though daddy is takin care of the baby but the mother's just you know scandalous not just like this hey] Fuck my baby'z mama The bitch got drama Fuck my baby'z mama Coz she's the type o' bitch that wanna see me broke Broker than a joke bitch stole my role And every time I see the bitch she needs cash She make me wanna slap her ass Triflin bitch always got me in a fit The low-life-Compton-shoppin-swap-me trick I wanna kill the ho then slam her in the trunc of my six fo' Coz yo, that ho made my dick grow and now her lawyer's at every show waitin for me to kick in my dough But before I go I'm on death row coz the bitch had too much drama... FUCK MY BABY'Z MAMA ! [CHORUS:] FUCK MY BABY'Z MAMA ! (7x) [Trick bitch !] FUCK MY BABY'Z MAMA ! Fuck my baby'z mama The bitch got drama And I'm not the one I should just knock her punk ass out while I'm in court payin child support But then I gotta deal with the father and the steel and he's the type o' nigga that a nigga's gotta kill Make me kick up a grip, I don't like her coz the bitch is buyin skirts instead of dipers Beggin so much to hold hands it's startin to look like cuffs I wish I never fucked But now it's too late How much you made ? Coz accordin to your income you might have to spend some time behind bars Now ya find it hard Never thought a bitch would pull a stunt like this I can't do another day with Pamela so I'm a pay ya, Anna but I just like to say... [CHORUS] I think of all the money that I spent on a lawyer I used to be an employer but now I'm just an employee filin bankruptcy But now the punk bitch can't touch me Huh! I only call her to check up on my daughter So now she's got a restraining order Put me to the curb and had the nerve to axks a bower or dime Bitch, you must be outcha rabid ass mind Huh! Love for start will take much, you see, the bitch broke me so now I need a crutch But you gotta understand a judge don't give a fuck about a young nigga that's down on his luck So I gotta put the P down and be down for the calls and give the bitch back her drawers So if ya drivin by and ya see her do me favor, give the bitch the finger FUCK HER ! [CHORUS] You biiiiiiiiiitch !!! [insert:] Haha, that's fucked up! Go to hell ! We dedicate this number to you, haha This one's for youuuu ! This evening's news report: See ya 'round, buddy boy... [Pow]

Paper Chase

JIM JONES "F.E.A.S.T.: Vampire Life 2"
Still chasing them hoes Woke up in a daze bitch all in my face One thing on my mind is I gotta get paid Throw on my new J's then I hit the streets Bills gotta get paid Baby gotta eat oh oh I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' oh oh I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' Racks I'll be chasin' I ain't chasing these hoes Focus on this money I'm just getting this dough oh oh They talking money no I'm speaking fluent If you're talking lawyers let's keep it Jewish If it's dropped top let's keep it ruthless If you talkin' promise you know we get stupid If I'm sleeping I dream on If I sleep then my team on Niggas beefin' out in the streets Money puttin' the beam on Quadruple with that racing pal, yeah Yea, I'm master of the face and black Some of team just to make you back And all that damn try to make you stack My bitch in Atlanta, get money, bring the hammers Once she talking and understand her She give me brand and call it country grammar And I'm getting bread, all kind of dough While I'm getting' head I'll be countin' dough Fuck the feds, I'm a drown in dough And my trunk look like it ain't my top In this pump just might gonna shake that block I want this done so unlace the watch Hundred carrots, no bunny rabbits Motherfucker, this straight up box Woke up in a daze bitch all in my face One thing on my mind is I gotta get paid Throw on my new J's then I hit the streets Bills gotta get paid Baby gotta eat oh oh I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' oh oh I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' Racks I'll be chasin' I ain't chasing these hoes Focus on this money I'm just getting this dough oh oh I'm just tryna get it how I live shawty I'm just tryna eat, who got a pill for me? My baby need a crib homie Better yet, my baby need somewhere to live broadie Ridin' 'round with that thorny Pistol talk 'til I point it Give it up when I want it Give everything out of this joint Got a body on the floor A body on the court Body at the starters screaming murder that you wrote wut Is you who from? 'Cause I ain't going in until my bill's done My bills gotta be paid up Post cup, laid up till I count this paper Gotta get my cake up, baby need some peppers Hoes want shopping spree I guess I'm nigga Going on the ride sprays 'Til I get a jace Tell I bring home a hundred G's I'm a rubber nigga for a hundred piece Woke up in a daze bitch all in my face One thing on my mind is I gotta get paid Throw on my new J's then I hit the streets Bills gotta get paid Baby gotta eat oh oh I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' oh oh I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' Racks I'll be chasin I ain't chasing these hoes Focus on this money I'm just getting this dough oh oh

Lady Patra

IGGY AZALEA "The New Classic"
No pussyhole can come in our place In our arena, in our establishment And try talk the talk and walk the walk And act like them don't know where we from Like we don't have the biggest in hundred Iggy, what you say? What you say? Bullet! [Hook x2:] Classic, Sinatra Bad, Phantom of the Opera Shuffle the deck, I be the queen in the pack Gotcha, Lady Patra [Verse 1: Iggy Azalea] Paper planes, roger that, 10-4 Got money, been had it, still gettin' more Oh y'all in the building, but on different floors Y'all couldn't see it how we see it on ya tippie-toes Iggy so killing, so pretty, still pretty Talkin' hits on hits, McGuire, Bonds, Griffey Mash it up bring the queens of the dancehall with me Pearl handle on the pistol, tell this world to come and get me And I'm thummin' through designers to pick which'll fit me proper Paid dues, climbed through the ranks, but we ain't Shabba Need me a rude boy, something straight out the shockers That could drive a girl crazy, all the way off my rocker Versaces over eyelids, lookin' like Biggie Poppa No they thought I wouldn't make it, I'm lookin' like what's the matter? But tell them money talks, and them man not saying nada This the new classic, signed sincerely, Lady Patra [Hook x2] [Verse 2: Mavado] She's special and phenomenal Body strong like a stallion She got me wild like an animal Chop it up, eh pon de floor Chop it up, eh pon de floor You put your whine dynamical Billion dollar shit, trillion dollar looks Tell them broke bitch, read it in the books Your thing turn up, you got Louis on your foot You know you got gully on the hook It's the [?] [Hook x2] [Verse 3: Mavado] Said she need a real man Oh yes she want a real one So she fuck with a Jamaican Done (haha!) Your body lookin' like a billion dollar The baddest bitch you ever seen The one I want to be my baby mama I fuck her like my enemy [Hook x2]

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