smile in your face - lady b (tn) lyrics
[intro: ?]
girl, that’s the downside of [?]
that’s my man, that’s my man
i came to motherf*ckin’ tell
girl, that’s the downside of [?]
i came to motherf*ckin’ tell
girl, that’s the downside of [?]
that’s my man, that’s my man
girl, that’s the downside of [?]
that’s my man
girl, that’s the downside
[verse 1: lady b]
i was [?], chippin’ off these hoes
they braggin’ on their n*ggas, now you know how this sh*t goes
they jokin’ and they havin’ fun, but miss me, they get scr*p it
and talkin’ about eachother, clock these b*tches always high cappin’
frontin’ high, the n*gga ballin’ this and ballin’ that
a ugly motherf*cker but she think that he the sh*t
her eye be all swolе, from the fistes swingin’ hard
but this sh*ts always talkin’ about my man up on her job
see, i don’t fight ovеr n*ggas ’cause i’m bigger than the sh*t
i’ma blow his ass off if i catch him in the clique
i’m stackin’ what you lackin’, now you b*tches got some ana
i leave your ass stankin’ like you lost your f*ckin’ manners
i know your show hater, drop the top and roll clean
and when i watch my storys, b*tch, i’m still clockin’ green
so lady b, where are the tricks
the smile in your face, they stabbed through your back
the jealous hoes
[interlude: ?]
but don’t you hate them b*tches that walk in the store
finding out if you do stupid sh*t
tryna keep you from stealin’ and sh*t
i hate them hoes
b*tches on commission what i call ’em
you try some f*cked up sh*t, who cares, not good
where you at b*tch? okay
i tryna abort ’em, you know i ball to a rack and [?] eight of nine [?] of the rack, and go in the fittin’ room
but they [?] knock on the f*ckin’ door, want that
how did those fit?
like g, they fit perfect with my personal zip up now, b*tch
[verse 2: lady b]
i finna hit the modern just to let her lookin’ stout
and it’s so many n*ggas tryna holler at a pimp
some n*ggas was actin’ groupie, said
“hit ’em, i hit ’em rapid”
[?] grippin’ [?], oh sh*t this n*gga cappin’
but he was in gang, mane this sh*t was so lame
until he stuck his tongue out, now i know what that sh*t mean
but i ain’t with that sh*t, you see i’m already chosen
and buy me [?] great, i see this fat b*tch approachin’
she touched him on the shoulders, screamin’
h*ll ho, you talkin’ to a b*tch?
h*ll no, [?] godd*mn friend
i said you round for that big momma, you must be like jokin’
you need to scrain your business, [?] and you chokin’
the n*gga said: b*tch, i said i cannot breathe, please let me go”
but that was just a [?], let me know it’s time to leave
see i can’t trust a n*gga with material sh*t and bring you close
’cause they be the main ones with some ugly*ass jealous hoes
[interlude: ?]
they ain’t gon’ be [?], they gon’ be a hoe
if they ain’t even learn anything from this [?]
they should have learned three new words
no, thank you
you know what i’m sayin’, they gon’ be a hoe
when that b*tch call me a house, go get it
they look [?] here, go get the b*tch
you know what i’m sayin’, go get it, godd*mn it
’cause see, i want you to go out there and get you a good insurance [?]
’cause he ain’t gon’ last long, he gon’ have h, h*i*v
then he gon’ have a*i*d*s, the motherf*cker gon’ be d*e*a*d
and your ass gon’ get p*a*i*d
[interlude: kingpin skinny pimp]
yeah, lady b, when i first met you they had a lil’ room out
what’s up with that sh*t they always talkin’ about
all them funky*ass b*tches
[verse 3: lady b]
jealous*ass b*tch, what’s up with that sh*t you talkin’ hoe?
project givin’ nightmares, cripplin’ f*ckin’ n*ggas remaining broke
you stay your ass in visitation, ’cause you stayin’ days in jail
tryna sell rock for rock on the block, you f*ckin’ up through the mail
jealous hoes makin’ pimpin’ strong, with that stupid sh*t
fightin’ over n*ggas, then they layin’ up with the next b*tch
l*o*b*i*n*g*n*i*double*g*a*z is what they do
when you catchin’ a f*ckin’ [?], load your gun and shoot
[?] knock that hoe*ass, lookin’ stupid, scary
ciefin’ [?] in your house, with that hoe, then you shoot that sl*t
hollywood is where i’m from, a player, b*tches know the game
stackin’ cheese, smokin’ trees and still we like to ride clean
still some b*tches like to run their mouth, they ain’t havin’ thangs
age thirty*thirty, hairy b*tch, when a pistol aims
sweetness ain’t no weakness, just a front to make you think i’m nice
jealous*ass hoe, i took your n*gga, get a f*ckin’ life, want
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