Pressa - Mad Bitches lyrics

[Intro: Shy Glizzy] (Island with the cash like Diego) If you don't love that b*tch, she can't come to the condo (B-B-Bankroll Got It) [Chorus: Shy Glizzy] I know bad b*tches, ayy, I know mad b*tches You know mad hitters, 'bout it, they gon' blast with you I ain't had sh*t, I had to get some cash, ni**a Now the bag bigger, yeah, so now we brag different If you don't love that b*tch, she can't come to the condo b*tch, our bag so big, can't send it to Toronto That guy right there, he wipe a nose, call him my fu*king uncle Ain't no fu*king little bro, b*tch, I'm the head honcho [Verse 1: Shy Glizzy] Got my money right (Uh) b*tch, that's fu*king right (Oh) A ni**a play with Glizzy, we gon' kill they ass tonight (Uh-huh) She ride it like a bike (Uh) She wanna take a bite (Ooh) My song sheet so bad that my b*tch turned into a dyke (Ooh) Glizzy Gang, we mobbing (Mobbing) All them ni**as starving (Oh) Wintertime, Christmas season, know these ni**as robbing (Woo) You say you got too much stardom (Yeah) But, b*tch, I've been a target (Yeah) Boy, that b*tch so bad that I bought her an apartment, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah) I'm just tryna meet some Ms I ain't tryna be your friend (Cha-ching) Lost some ni**as, they ain't dead, just cannot be around me again (Woah) ni**a run up on Jefe, yeah, end up on CNN (Today) Hit 'em with my F&N (Baow-baow-baow) I'm a fu*king hooligan [Chorus: Shy Glizzy] I know bad b*tches, ayy, I know mad b*tches You know mad hitters, 'bout it, they gon' blast with you I ain't had sh*t, I had to get some cash, ni**a Now the bag bigger, yeah, so now we brag different If you don't love that b*tch, she can't come to the condo b*tch, our bag so big, can't send it to Toronto That guy right there, he wipe a nose, call him my fu*king uncle Ain't no fu*king little bro, b*tch, I'm the head honcho [Verse 2: Pressa] Yeah, I come from that stove whippin' (Dope) Dirtbikes and four-wheelin' (Rrr) Crodie, yep, he blow, ni**a (Blaow) Then bring his folks with him (Get) We pull up, put holes in 'em (Blaow) Two lil' cros, they both with it (Get) He get shot, no Cole Bennett Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah See, this Glock, it got a drum in it (Drum) Beef with us, better come with it (Come) And all them lies, he had to run with it (Yeah) I'm a icy b*tch (b*tch) They ain't got nothing on these bounce, see I just lost a pack, I think I need another rack I'm selling drugs, ni**a My goofy OG, he ain't tell me what it was, ni**a Click-click-pow, yeah, he should've had a gun with him (Goofy) You see this money, it'll change a lot, but not a thurl ni**a And we gon' barrel ni**as Certified, uh [Chorus: Shy Glizzy] I know bad b*tches, ayy, I know mad b*tches You know mad hitters, 'bout it, they gon' blast with you I ain't had sh*t, I had to get some cash, ni**a Now the bag bigger, yeah, so now we brag different If you don't love that b*tch, she can't come to the condo b*tch, our bag so big, can't send it to Toronto That guy right there, he wipe a nose, call him my fu*king uncle Ain't no fu*king little bro, b*tch, I'm the head honcho