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My b*tch
by
Tom The Mail Man
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Ay, my b*t*h so f**ked up Who you texting? b*t*h you out, like I won't go and f**k on your best friend She would take the d**k, ain't no question I'm a pretty n***a, she know I give out blessings, respect him It's like, ay, my b*t*h so f**ked up Staring her face on my momma is f**k blood Just because we f**ked don't get it f**ked up I'm in my back, hoe Even if I trust another b*t*h I couldn't trust her I'm in my back, hoe And I don't care if you say I'm a as*h**e Run it up, got the money to the mad hoe If I f**k with you I would be all bad bro I'm tryna bring the stash home Ay, bad b*t*h, she can f**k but she still can't cook Get the camera out her face, she don't read no book I can't bring her out in public, she a stupid hoe But she still ride a d**k, make me stupid, oh My b*t*h so f**ked up Who you texting? We was down bad, I ain't mad that we're flexing How the f**k is loyalty a question If I give I expect it
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