Yg - Bitches MP3 dan Lirik Lagu

[intro]
too many b-tches
still, there ain't enough b-tches
i handle my business
can't handle your b-tches?
on my mama, i'm on
on my mama, i'm on
on my mama, i'm on

[verse 1: rj]
b-tch n-gga say what?
remind me of my sl-t
don't make me drop my nut
and i'm on up
all raw, uncut
broad in pocket, don't touch my bucks
business, get some, she on the line, like five, and one
pop things like five, dozen, huh?
said she ready to go
hold up, i got a show
you boys like hoes, n-ggas like b-tches
mob wonder why i ain't with ya?
i ain't got time, handle my business
all play not work, that's a low key scrimmage
girl named lindsey, girl named molly
they both like me, we all like money
the end of my senses
i ain't cuffin no b-tches
like i've been to san quentin

[hook: rj]
i'm on my fitness
got all kind of b-tches
work ‘em out like a gymnast
you n-ggas like b-tches
all in my dentures
remind me of my dentist
man i got b-tches
too many b-tches
still it ain't enough b-tches
i handle my business
can't handle your b-tches?
keep ‘em out my business
man i got b-tches

[verse 2: yg]
give me a pill i might pop one
give me a collar, might pop one
and i trust no b-tch, they might got something
i f-ck you with condom, b-tch that ain't my son
yeah – they got the homie for a hot one
in these dank d-mn i'm tryna flock one
give me this, give me that, f-ck no, you a rat
i ain't no trick, suck on this d-ck, and
f-ck on my clique, like that, yeah straight up
them basketball wives just tryna have you n-ggas pay up
ho, sl-t, ratchet – i'm going ham ‘till they put me in the casket
and i'm packing, pimping and macking
pull it out and get cracking
look – i got rich b-tches and them b-tches got b-tches
and i'm giving your mama my digits

[hook: rj]
i'm on my fitness
got all kind of b-tches
work ‘em out like a gymnast
you n-ggas like b-tches
all in my dentures
remind me of my dentist
man i got b-tches
too many b-tches
still it ain't enough b-tches
i handle my business
can't handle your b-tches?
keep ‘em out my business
man i got b-tches

[verse 3: rj]
b-tch got b-tches
b-tch, b-tches got b-tches
see, i'm at the function
front row, got it jumping, show trap and i'm funking
homie, you a woman, probably really want a husband
bet you feel it in your stomach, hoes get nothing
but some d-ck and instructions, i don't need no interruptions
so we get scrumptious, man, always into something
don't forget the motherf-cker, that's my introduction
i'm out here hustling, you off the lean, i'm struggling
cut it with percussion, start the whip with a b-tton
no keys, just touching, microwave oven
leave the cooking for the b-tches
unless i'm cooking up a pigeon

[hook: rj]
i'm on my fitness
got all kind of b-tches
work ‘em out like a gymnast
you n-ggas like b-tches
all in my dentures
remind me of my dentist
man i got b-tches
too many b-tches
still it ain't enough b-tches
i handle my business
can't handle your b-tches?
keep ‘em out my business
man i got b-tches