(And if I ever (ever fall) In love again (again) I will be sure that the lady is a friend Ladies If I ever fall)
I'm not like them regular chicks When I go for a hit, I don't miss Go for a hit, I don't miss I'm not like them regular bitches Not like them regular chicks Not like them regular chicks When my man dive in I go in and smash on them bitches Got my fam out the hood Cast out buyin' good now Got it poppin' like I should've Live my life, gotta loca In the neck of the woods In the neck of the woods It ain't trickin' 'if you got it When I pull up on 'em they be wylin'
I'm in the city and I'm pretty wit' it Diamonds on me, got me feelin' big Is you with me if I fall down Lemme know, lemme know, know 'Cause I'm in the (goal, but fired up [?] ) Fuck love, I'ma handle my stuff Told you, I'm not like them regular chicks I ain't gon' deal with no regular shit He say he love me but play with the ting I be like "damn, who you kiddin'? " I'm not like 'em regular chicks Nobody gon' diss me or call me a bitch I be like them "damn, who you kiddin'? " Run up, run up, get done up If they kick me down I'm gon' come up I'm always gon' have one up Livin' my life, I won't give up I got my money, I can make do Made one milli, I could make two Ain't no favors, I've been workin', working back to back God knows I stay true
I'm not like them regular chicks When I go for a hit, I don't miss Go for a hit, I don't miss I'm not like them regular bitches Not like them regular chicks Not like them regular chicks When my man dive in I go in and smash on them bitches Got my fam out the hood Cast out buyin' good now Got it poppin' like I should've Live my life, gotta loca In the neck of the woods In the neck of the woods It ain't trickin' 'if you got it When I pull up on 'em they be wylin'
Diamonds on my wrist, diamonds on my neck Every time I step back I've got these bitches pressed Ooh they throwin' shots, but it ain't direct You know they could never come at me that way
Swear I ain't just like your regular Poppin', we gettin' that chedda' bro Flickin' my wrist like a balla' Bitches gon' hate 'cause they regular You think you're best, then you [?] Someone need slap you a joker Someone need slap you a joker [?] give money to ya, my [?] Whoa You know what it is Baby you know that it's like that If I leave you, you ain't gon' like that You know I'm wit' the G's You know I'm turnin' up You know I'm poppin' tags You know I'm wit' the stuff If I spend it I make it back Money I run, and I run wit' Jah How you gon' treat me like bitches on crack How you gon' treat me like bitches Bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches
Diamonds on my wrist, diamonds on my neck Every time I step back I've got these bitches pressed Ooh they throwin' shots, but it ain't direct You know they could never come at me that way
Ooh, lovin' what you do [?]
Compositores: Carl E. Martin, Rodney Kumbirayi Hwingwiri, Stephanie Victoria Allen