Soundtracks: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

List of artists: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


Meek Mill - Basic Bitch lyrics

  Click to play this song!

Basic Bitch by Meek Mill


[Intro]
When I say weakass, you say b**ch
Weakass b**ch, weakass b**ch
I don't want no basic b**ches, basic b**ches
I don't want no basic b**ches, wait a minute motherf**ker
[Hook: Meek Mill]
Rap niggas be talkin' hard
Talkin' sh*t till we pull your card
Take your chain, beat you up
f**k your b**ch, clean you up
My niggas wylin', we wylin', we wylin', wylin'
My niggas wylin', we wylin', we wylin', wylin'
My niggas wylin', we wylin', we wylin', wylin'
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I don't want no basic b**ches
She ain't never f**k with a rich nigga
She told me that her ex was a b**ch nigga
So I told her put me on the 'Gram though
Just to flex on that nigga with some real killers
And now he on my line talkin' reckless
I'm thinkin', should I slide or should I check him?
But I ain't goin' to war about no pussy though
But if you tryna you get wet then
Runnin' with my niggas on the low-low
We in the south side, talkin' mafioso
I be really outside, bustin' with my four-four
Right there on the south side, watching for the po-po
Sharper than a motherf**ker
We gettin' money like a motherf**ker
She suckin' dick for Red Bottoms
You bet some b**ches call 'em bloodsuckers
Get it?
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Quavo]
I know exactly what Meek talkin' bout
I took your basic ass ho and then I nut on her mouth
Broke niggas you can stand to the left
Rich niggas to the right with their pistols out
Playin' with a cat, got her whiskers out
Got 'Rari's and Bentleys, and Fiskers out
Hold up, what the f**k this nigga talkin' bout?
Yo, Takeoff, pull the Mac-11 out
Young niggas wylin', 12 o'clock on a Friday
Pull up like Big Worm, I want my money Friday
And you can have your basic b**ches
Because my hoes' siddity with fat ass and titties
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Takeoff]
Takeoff, I make the work disappear like a magician
Take that envy then stand in the kitchen, whip me up a chicken
I beat that pot like a chemist, money bat-bat like it's tennis
And free my niggas in penitentiaries, they locked in the system
I pray the Lord is my witness, nigga, I'm stackin' them benjis
Ever since they killed Pistol Pete my nigga, I turned to a menace
And all these diamonds around my neck, I put on two of them chinchillas
Drop my top in the winter, cash out at the Beverly Center
Go to my jeweler out in Cuba, get diamonds below temperature
Double cup my muddy trouble, I'm an Actavis citizen
b**ches run around the lobby, boot 'em up, but no Timberlands
Your b**ch pull up to my trap with no car
Like football she get penalties
[Hook]



A-Z Lyrics Universe

Follow us

Lyrics / song texts are property and copyright of their owners and provided for educational purposes.