Your flare's such a bar Drinkin' a bottle of Henny through a straw Bitch, you better stop the dialogue 'Fore I hit call and buy your catalogue Sigh How you fuck your mother man when she die? How you go on Gayle King and can't cry? Chile, bye Big foot, but you still a small fry Swearin' on your dead mother when you lie
Ayo This little beggin' whore talkin' 'bout Megan's law For a free beat, you can hit Megan raw (Uh) If you a ghost writer, Pardi in Megan jaw (Uh) Shots thrown but I sttill ain't let Megan score (Tell 'em , uh) Bad bitch she like six foot (Uh), I call her, "Big Foot" (Brrr) The bitch fell off, I said, "Get up on your good foot" Uh, she ain't still topped off Red Ruby (No; Uh-huh) Tryna steal the sauce, I said "Get up out my cook book"
But really I'm a sweetie pie P-R-T-T-Y but I'm P-E-T-T-Y Um, why did you lie about your lypo? Fuckin' your best firend man is crazy, you the type, though You was lyin' to the Queen then you went lyin' to the King Gale, that thirty-year-old tea, so stale Kylie, kicked you out and made you stumble to the car
Barbz, I need a good alcohol bar Roman, wait, that was the bar Like a body builder, I keep raisin' the bar Fuck you get shot with no scar? (Brrr) This little piggy toxic, someone adopt it (Ah-ha) Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm Shit'll get dark like chocolate I'm 'bout to get up in your ass, bitch, clench (Woo) Mm, yeah, sort of like French They got you all them Grammy's bot your flow's still a no
