Bitter (Narration By Cardi B)
[Intro: Summer Walker]
Mm, mm, mm (Better stop playin' with me)
(b*tch better stop playin' with me)
Bitter, oh, mad at me, mad at my ni**a (Better stop playin' with me)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Playin' with me)
(Better stop playin' with me) Mm
[Chorus: Summer Walker]
Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my ni**a
Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me
But this sh*t bigger than me and you alone
So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'?
b*tches jus' be lookin' for attention
[Verse 1: Summer Walker]
Trust me, you can get it (Get it)
Pull up whenever, whenever, you know I'm with it
Don't gеt it twisted, nothin' like none of thеse b*tches
But sometimes I get in my feelings
Sometimes I know I be trippin' (Trippin')
But why these hoes all in our business?
How he don't care 'bout his children? (How he don't care?)
How he's supposed to be there? Y'all won't let him get 'em
How you posted like that on the 'Gram for a thousand?
I bet you can't post a picture (Bet you can't, bet you can't)
Wonderin' if you even know this b*tch, for real
London, did you screw this b*tch for real?
They be on that groupie sh*t, for real (Ah)
And I know she thought she struck when she let a ni**a fu*k
Man that b*tch is lookin' stuck (Stuck, stuck)
And I bet when you came that she thought she came up
Now that b*tch is feelin' dumb (Bet your b*tch feelin' dumb)
She prolly thought it came with a million
She prolly thought you changed how she livin'
Prolly thought that dick came with the fame and the riches
[Chorus: Summer Walker]
Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my ni**a
Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me
But this sh*t bigger than me and you alone
So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'?
b*tches jus' be lookin' for attention
[Verse 2: Summer Walker]
Bitter baby mama
Always point her finger at a ni**a, whenever it's a problem
Always put the blame on a ni**a instead of tryna solve it
Always wanna gossip, her and her friend have been talkin'
But whatever they be sayin' ain't 'bout sh*t
Think a ni**a supposed to pay for they outfit
Get they nails and feet done and her hair did, yeah
You ain't sh*t, b*tch
Claim you independent but you ain't did sh*t
Live in Section 8 but still can't pay rent (Better stop playin' with me)
You ain't sh*t, b*tch
So leave your children your mama and you ain't raised sh*t
But you want that child support, what you think this is? Oh (Better stop playin' with me)
Just because you let him smash that don't mean he ever knew ya (Better stop playin' with me)
Just 'cause y'all got a past, that don't mean you got a future (Better stop playin' with me)
This mine for life (For life), no switchin' sides (Switchin' side)
We ride or die, and that's why I know you
[Chorus: Summer Walker]
Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my ni**a
Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me
But this sh*t bigger than me and you alone
So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'?
b*tches jus' be lookin' for attention
[Outro: Cardi B & Summer Walker]
(Better stop playin' with me)
(b*tch better stop playin' with me)
Well, Summer Walker, you know I been seein'
You know, all the bullsh*t that's been goin' on with you today
And, you know, I don't know if the rumors are true
I don't know, I don't care, it's not my business, but if it is true
Don't let b*tches, like, make
Don't let them feel like they have a one-up by destroying your moment
By fu*king telling your business to the world
On some, "Ha-ha, yeah, I'ma do it on purpose, I'ma do it spitefully"
Do it your own way and do it beautifully, do it special
If you are pregnant and everything, say it in a beautiful way in your music
Say why you, you know, decided to be with your ni**a
Even though you have problems, put that drama in your music, yeah
'Cause if b*tches wanna get clout off you, you gonna get clout off them
And you gonna put that sh*t in your music
Say some sh*t like, "I got my own fu*kin' money"
Make them b*tches feel hurt, hit them b*tches where it hurt
And put that sh*t in your music, make money off it in your music
fu*k these hoes