Lyrics Troy Ave – That’s My Bitch

And she be mad when we don’t lay up
And then we fight and fuck and make up
I’m sick and tired, I don’t stay up
But it’s ok ’cause you my bitch, bitch, bitch

Niggas on my dick more than my ho
I take his bitch to the Bell, fucked her for tacos
I bought my baby Chanel, told her to rock those
Logo shoes with the matching purse, yeah I know it hurt
Put a caviar in the hood, I’m a star
In the Waldo, eating some beluga, caviar
I just sold sold some fishscale, then I bought some fish eggs
My watch sick and don’t tick but being broke is played
Niggas is dying, only death could delay ’em
I’m getting to it, I’m on ?
but I ain’t fucking playing
It’s time to win it, time to end it, game six, JM
Ironically I’m smoother than jazz, you niggas talking like Jazz
You played out like ?
sonic, I’m going for cash
In the latest model Benz, I bought this shit cash
Y’all just keep an eye on me, should call you click lash
Every whip and chain I buy is like a fucking lash
Slave to the block, waving the Glock
If you was supposed to be the man would you fake it or not?
Yup, crabs in the barrel, you get out, they looking for help
I’m closing that barrel, set fire and watching you melt

And she be mad when we don’t lay up
And then we fight and fuck and make up
I’m sick and tired, I don’t stay up
But it’s ok ’cause you my bitch, bitch, bitch
Every day you niggas wake up
You never tryna get your cake up
You got your hate but not your weight up
But it’s ok ’cause you a bitch

But we ain’t gonna fast forward to avoid haters
They want me to kill ’em, I just want to get more paper
I’m ?
picking out Versace wallpaper
My lil bro Jeep interior gon’ be all gator
And nigga you ain’t even got a whip, that’s a crock of shit
And you ain’t even play my hits, that’s about a bitch
That I’m fucking, you loving
Got you hot as an oven
You’s a jive turkey, that’s a cook with the stuffing
Just a bird nigga, I can flip ’em and snuff ’em
You got some nerve to be in my city and fronting
When I brought the town back, I generate the talk
I made it respectable again to be from New York
I heard that they heckling him, when I see him, it’s chalk
These niggas is food, I’m running down on ’em like forks
I’m making four points, I’m bringing in four joints
I won’t get caught but the bulletin will be all points
I’m ghetto as fuck and so I don’t care
I pray to God with the devil in my ear
Smooth criminal shit

And she be mad when we don’t lay up
And then we fight and fuck and make up
I’m sick and tired, I don’t stay up
But it’s ok ’cause you my bitch, bitch, bitch
Every day you niggas wake up
You never tryna get your cake up
You got your hate but not your weight up
But it’s ok ’cause you a bitch

It’s ok cause you’s a bitch
Not a bitch like my bitches
You know my bitches realer than you bitch ass niggas
That’s a fact though
Fuck you a bum ass niggas got an opinion on a millionaire
Barber shop talk ass niggas man
BSB Records, Troy Ave
We getting on on our own merit
We don’t dickride
We self made and self paid
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