Cardi B

Cardi B - Bronx Season songtekst

Je score:

Oh, how you doing?

I'm alright



Now how much times do I gotta prove these niggas wrong?

And how much times I gotta show these bitches I ain't soft?

How many shows I gotta sell out 'fore you get the cost?

Why they really tryna front like I ain't hit the charts?

All these labels, throwing deals from left to right

But I ain't giving in until they get them numbers right

All these people think that this shit happen overnight

All that flexin' they be doing

Shit is all a hype

No tolerance for a hating bitch

Talking shit

Only time I hold my tongue is when I'm sucking dick

So when I see you in the streets, yeah, it's f**king lit

And don't be talking all that sorry shit

Don't flip the script

I see the lights

I hear the hype

I hit the mic

I kill the show

I get my dough

I catch a flight

I see a hater

I'm running down

It's on sight

I throw my hands

I hit em' left

I hit em' right



They sleeping on me just because I used to strip

But it's all good cause now they wanna get up in my VIP

Blowing up my phone

Saying everything I touch is lit

Acting cool and wanna f**k me

Like they wasn't talking shit

I let em' live

Let the shady motherf**kers live

Get them the price then it's time to show em' what it is

Don't got the bat?

Well then what you really tryna pitch?

Don't waste my time

I ain't never been no average bitch



Not to mention

I did my tour and that shit was winning

Independent, the headline

Award of feeling

I thank the Lord for all the blessings that he is given

I love the fans

They fill me up with their ammunition

I don't really talk shit but now I gotta off this

I don't know why bitches think we work in the same office

Corny bitches tryna keep up?

Look exhausted

Wave the white flag

Girl, you might as well just forfeit



My ex told me I was never gon' be shit

Lookie, lookie now

Lookie now

Nigga I'm that bitch

What you thought?

Yeah, you really lost

Now you kinda sick

But I ain't never need a nigga

I was always on my shit

I used to stare at magazines

On the train

Looking at these models

Like "I gotta be this one day"

f**k around

Got myself a name

Now I'm getting paid

Left the corny bitches in the grave

Now they throwing shade
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Taal: Engels

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