(And if the beat live, you know Lil Ju made it)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that's how I roll
All this cake with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin' that race
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that's how I roll
All this cake with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin' that race
I had to learn that
Some people only f*ck with you when it's beneficial
And when you ain't lettin' them use no more
It become a motherf*ckin' issue (f*cked up)
You can keep tellin' people you don't f*ck with me no more
'Cause I promise I don't miss you (I promise I don't, ah)
And I'm still doin' Hot Girl shit (ayy)
Young Tina Snow, still hard on a hoe (I'm still hard on a hoe, ah)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
H-town legend Lil' Keke the Don, checkin' in
See, first off top, I'ma say this, man
It take a special motherf*cker
To even represent this way of life, you understand?
See, this a culture where the trap star and the rap star got the same bag, man
See, the hustlers and the grinders
They just as famous as the athletes and the movie stars
See, that's real talk
The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself
Gon' tell me exactly where you from, that's legend talk, man
It ain't about the car, it's about how the car make me feel
The way I tote it, the statement that it's gon' make in the culture
'Cause it ain't no vinyl in the car, it's leather all the way through
Perforated from the guts, to the door panels, to the booth
We don't ride raincoat, if I got the top up on it
That motherf*cker cover with the rain
Double stitched Daytona carpet, ten coats of clean on that paint
Bitch thicker than Megan, get it? See, that's how you talk slayer
Have you ever seen a bitch so bad a nigga spend his last on that shit?
Big titties, flat stomachs, fat asses, welcome to the culture, nigga
Slabs, bikes, muscle cars, Bentleys, Benzs, if I'm in it, I own it
Come from nothin', paper plates to paper plates
Mixtapes, fried chicken, double cups, squares, everywhere
"Ke, what you sayin'?"
I say all that to say, how you like me now, nigga?
Megan Thee Stallion - Tina Snow Interlude Lyrics
Megan Thee Stallion - Tina Snow Interlude Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
(And if the beat live, you know Lil Ju made it)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that's how I roll
All this cake with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin' that race
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that's how I roll
All this cake with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin' that race
I had to learn that
Some people only f*ck with you when it's beneficial
And when you ain't lettin' them use no more
It become a motherf*ckin' issue (f*cked up)
You can keep tellin' people you don't f*ck with me no more
'Cause I promise I don't miss you (I promise I don't, ah)
And I'm still doin' Hot Girl shit (ayy)
Young Tina Snow, still hard on a hoe (I'm still hard on a hoe, ah)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
H-town legend Lil' Keke the Don, checkin' in
See, first off top, I'ma say this, man
It take a special motherf*cker
To even represent this way of life, you understand?
See, this a culture where the trap star and the rap star got the same bag, man
See, the hustlers and the grinders
They just as famous as the athletes and the movie stars
See, that's real talk
The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself
Gon' tell me exactly where you from, that's legend talk, man
It ain't about the car, it's about how the car make me feel
The way I tote it, the statement that it's gon' make in the culture
'Cause it ain't no vinyl in the car, it's leather all the way through
Perforated from the guts, to the door panels, to the booth
We don't ride raincoat, if I got the top up on it
That motherf*cker cover with the rain
Double stitched Daytona carpet, ten coats of clean on that paint
Bitch thicker than Megan, get it? See, that's how you talk slayer
Have you ever seen a bitch so bad a nigga spend his last on that shit?
Big titties, flat stomachs, fat asses, welcome to the culture, nigga
Slabs, bikes, muscle cars, Bentleys, Benzs, if I'm in it, I own it
Come from nothin', paper plates to paper plates
Mixtapes, fried chicken, double cups, squares, everywhere
"Ke, what you sayin'?"
I say all that to say, how you like me now, nigga?
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that's how I roll
All this cake with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin' that race
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that's how I roll
All this cake with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin' that race
I had to learn that
Some people only f*ck with you when it's beneficial
And when you ain't lettin' them use no more
It become a motherf*ckin' issue (f*cked up)
You can keep tellin' people you don't f*ck with me no more
'Cause I promise I don't miss you (I promise I don't, ah)
And I'm still doin' Hot Girl shit (ayy)
Young Tina Snow, still hard on a hoe (I'm still hard on a hoe, ah)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake-ass bitches, fake-ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
H-town legend Lil' Keke the Don, checkin' in
See, first off top, I'ma say this, man
It take a special motherf*cker
To even represent this way of life, you understand?
See, this a culture where the trap star and the rap star got the same bag, man
See, the hustlers and the grinders
They just as famous as the athletes and the movie stars
See, that's real talk
The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself
Gon' tell me exactly where you from, that's legend talk, man
It ain't about the car, it's about how the car make me feel
The way I tote it, the statement that it's gon' make in the culture
'Cause it ain't no vinyl in the car, it's leather all the way through
Perforated from the guts, to the door panels, to the booth
We don't ride raincoat, if I got the top up on it
That motherf*cker cover with the rain
Double stitched Daytona carpet, ten coats of clean on that paint
Bitch thicker than Megan, get it? See, that's how you talk slayer
Have you ever seen a bitch so bad a nigga spend his last on that shit?
Big titties, flat stomachs, fat asses, welcome to the culture, nigga
Slabs, bikes, muscle cars, Bentleys, Benzs, if I'm in it, I own it
Come from nothin', paper plates to paper plates
Mixtapes, fried chicken, double cups, squares, everywhere
"Ke, what you sayin'?"
I say all that to say, how you like me now, nigga?
Writer: Albert Joseph III Brown, Cornealius Campbell, Dorie Dorsey, Julian Mason, Kyle Albert West, Megan Pete
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
