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jt, nicki minaj - no bars remix (ft. nicki minaj) lyrics
verse 1]
pay for this p_ssy, n_gga (yeah), get yo’ bands up
oh, you ain’t trickin’, n_gga? i’ma hit yo’ mans up (the f_ck)
cold_ass c_cky b_tch, fur in the summertime (brr)
he gon’ keep the bills paid ’cause he know a b_tch fine
b_tches always in my business, “jt, what you really do?” (what?)
i be at home playin’ fetch by a swimmin’ pool (bing)
i’m a real big dog, b_tch, you a scr_ppy_doo
doin’ all that wifey sh_t knowin’ he don’t f_ck with you
poster girl p_ssy, in yo’ n_gga dreams
i’ma hold a semi, bust whoever in between (bop)
gangster b_tch, jt, medellín
haven’t heard from the opps, yeah, they ain’t said a thing (shh)
i’ll be d_mned, n_gga, you know who i am, n_gga (huh)
long way from crackin’ cars and pullin’ scams, n_gga (yeah)
b_tches on my d_ck, pretty like a transgеnder (ow)
sit this p_ssy on his chin in a chinchilla
fifty flows up
can’t hop out my coupe unless i lift thе doors up (ayy)
told my n_gga twin turbo, v8 the motor (skrrt)
self esteem drop every time i show up, yeah
wrist doin’ eighty in a thirty_five (ice, ayy)
shut marni down for some furry slides (sloppy)
look him in his eyes and tell him dirty lies (huh)
cop me chanel, n_gga, thirty times
the price on this kelly say i’m h_lla paid (yeah)
crocodile birkin from the everglades (yeah)
and i ain’t gotta do a motherf_ckin’ thing
i ain’t gotta do a motherf_ckin’ thing, b_tch (period)
[verse 2]
yo’ face card declined ?
buggin’ on my time
these n_ggas and these b_tches better knock on my shine
ain’t a b_tch you can tell, that got more money than mine
that new chanel drop, i’m finna cop like k9’s
[?]
so please hit recline, i said ” the streams gone be mine”
so b_tch hit recline, all these b_tches just be lyin’
[?][?][?][?], ’cause you slow b_tches never match that
[verse 3]
second verse to you hatin’_ass hoes (tired_ass)
who get mad every time i strike a pose (d_mn)
i’m rick’d down from my head to my toes (yep)
hood b_tch, dressed like a weirdo (huh)
run away, now i’m steppin’ in some runway
b_tch, you can’t f_ck with my on yo’ birthday (never)
free my real b_tches, corrlink and j_pay (free my b_tches)
you gon’ be home, f_ck what the judge say
i’m low_key, b_tches f_ck with my anxiety
i’m prayed up, and i’m waitin’ on my rivalry
i’m the hype, nah, y’all ain’t gotta hype me
i’m that b_tch, give a f_ck who don’t like me
it’s grind time, no flossin’ (let’s get it)
pulled out the truck and put the porsche in
these b_tches tired, they exhausted (tired_ass hoes)
got b_tches tannin’ for this dark skin
b_tch, i’m really from the trenches
where it’s shots, i ain’t talkin’ ’bout syringes (bop, bop, bow)
yeah, i’m really from them trenches
pretty_ass lips make these b_tches cop syringes, mwah
no bars
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