That's My Bitch (feat. Elly Jackson) (prod. by Kanye West, Q-Tip & Jeff Bhasker)
Hello, can I speak to a, a, yeah you know who you are Look, you had no idea what ya dealing with Something on some of this realest shit Something, something Yeah, that's my bitch
That's my bitch Shorty right there That's my bitch That's my bitch
I’ve been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life And live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high
I paid for them titties, get your own It aint safe in the city, watch the throne You say I care more about them basquion’s, basquiats She learning a new word, its yacht Blew the World up as soon as I hit the club with her Too Short called, told me “I fell in love with her” Seen by actors, ball players and drug dealers And some lesbians that never loved n-ggas Twisted love story True Romance Mary Magdalene from a pole dance I’m a freak huh, rock star life The second girl with us, thats our wife Hey boys and girls, I got a new riddle Who’s the new old perv thats tryna play second fiddle No disrespect, I’m not tryna belittle But my dick worth money I put Monie in the middle
I’ve been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life And live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high, high, high, high
Silly little vixen, mixes ’til morning Not swerving, oh, yeah Swear you never strolled on a bottle of that potion Stop motion, ooh, yeah
Go harder than a nigga for a nigga, gofigure Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up How could someone so gangsta be so pretty in pictures Ripped jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers Picasso was alive he woulda made her That’s right nigga, Mona Lisa can’t fade her I mean Marilyn Monroe, she’s quite nice But why all the pretty icons always all-white? Put some colored girls in the MOMA Half these broads ain’t got nothing on Wyldna Don’t make me bring Thelma in it Bring Halle, Bring Penelope and Selma in it Back to my Beyoncés, you deserve three stacks word to Andre Call Larry Gagosian You belong in museums, you belong in vintage clothes crushing the whole building You belong with niggas who used to be known for dope dealin’ You too dope for any of those civilians Now shoo children, stop lookin’ at her t*ts Get your own dog, ya heard That’s my bitch
I’ve been waiting for a long long time just to get off and throw my hands up high and live my life and live my life just to get off and throw my hands up high
Silly little vixen, mixes ’til morning Not swerving, oh, yeah Swear you never strolled on a bottle of that potion Stop motion, ooh, yeah
You have no idea what you’re dealing with Something on some of this realest sh-t Pop some nines, so I give you the Fifth Something, something, yeah
That’s my bitch, That’s my bitch Sh-shorty right there? That’s my bitch That’s my bitch