Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
Chief Keef in my blunt, I ain't talkin' bang bang
MJ in '96, I'm carrying the team, man
Hakeem the Dream and I'm shootin' from the deep end
Neiman, I just want the rings man, I just want the finer things for my f*ckin' team, man
She think I'm her ride or die, I'm just f*ckin' her for the night, yeah
She thought I was the sweetest thing, I f*cked up her life, yeah
Made her run it back with her lips until I splooged on her
You got me rippin' out my heart, sista
You got me feelin' like I'm hard, bubba
You can catch me reachin' for the stars, on God
You can catch me fadin' all the opps, oh yeah
Ain't no ship, but I depart from you
This 45 a shame for you, gun 'em down and shake 'em, bubba
We put the curbs to their faces, brotha, stomp 'em down and blame anotha
Sock ya brotha right in front of ya, don't be afraid to frame a bubba
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya, yeah
I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya
Yeah we watch out for the opps 'cause they could do the same to us
Nah I'm playin', we make a fool of 'em (haha)
Watch me pull your bitch's titties out and splooge on 'em (woah)
See me turn this party to a finger-blast function (yeah)
Bitches wanna paint my nails, I think I might let 'em (go)
Find out all the benefits that comin' right wit' it (heh)
Ain't no ship, but I depart from your bitch
Ain't talkin' 45 this time I shoot at your bitch
Up your gun 'cause your 22 ain't gon' do shit
I treat your wife like my hoe, made her run it with her lips
That means she suckin' on dick, hoe
She had too many vodka spritzers
I woulda thought she was a sprinter
The way she speed-runnin' my peener, we don't fear you
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
Tibik - 1000 Bitches (feat. YSC Choppa) Lyrics
Tibik - 1000 Bitches (feat. YSC Choppa) Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
Chief Keef in my blunt, I ain't talkin' bang bang
MJ in '96, I'm carrying the team, man
Hakeem the Dream and I'm shootin' from the deep end
Neiman, I just want the rings man, I just want the finer things for my f*ckin' team, man
She think I'm her ride or die, I'm just f*ckin' her for the night, yeah
She thought I was the sweetest thing, I f*cked up her life, yeah
Made her run it back with her lips until I splooged on her
You got me rippin' out my heart, sista
You got me feelin' like I'm hard, bubba
You can catch me reachin' for the stars, on God
You can catch me fadin' all the opps, oh yeah
Ain't no ship, but I depart from you
This 45 a shame for you, gun 'em down and shake 'em, bubba
We put the curbs to their faces, brotha, stomp 'em down and blame anotha
Sock ya brotha right in front of ya, don't be afraid to frame a bubba
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya, yeah
I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya
Yeah we watch out for the opps 'cause they could do the same to us
Nah I'm playin', we make a fool of 'em (haha)
Watch me pull your bitch's titties out and splooge on 'em (woah)
See me turn this party to a finger-blast function (yeah)
Bitches wanna paint my nails, I think I might let 'em (go)
Find out all the benefits that comin' right wit' it (heh)
Ain't no ship, but I depart from your bitch
Ain't talkin' 45 this time I shoot at your bitch
Up your gun 'cause your 22 ain't gon' do shit
I treat your wife like my hoe, made her run it with her lips
That means she suckin' on dick, hoe
She had too many vodka spritzers
I woulda thought she was a sprinter
The way she speed-runnin' my peener, we don't fear you
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
Chief Keef in my blunt, I ain't talkin' bang bang
MJ in '96, I'm carrying the team, man
Hakeem the Dream and I'm shootin' from the deep end
Neiman, I just want the rings man, I just want the finer things for my f*ckin' team, man
She think I'm her ride or die, I'm just f*ckin' her for the night, yeah
She thought I was the sweetest thing, I f*cked up her life, yeah
Made her run it back with her lips until I splooged on her
You got me rippin' out my heart, sista
You got me feelin' like I'm hard, bubba
You can catch me reachin' for the stars, on God
You can catch me fadin' all the opps, oh yeah
Ain't no ship, but I depart from you
This 45 a shame for you, gun 'em down and shake 'em, bubba
We put the curbs to their faces, brotha, stomp 'em down and blame anotha
Sock ya brotha right in front of ya, don't be afraid to frame a bubba
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya, yeah
I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya
Yeah we watch out for the opps 'cause they could do the same to us
Nah I'm playin', we make a fool of 'em (haha)
Watch me pull your bitch's titties out and splooge on 'em (woah)
See me turn this party to a finger-blast function (yeah)
Bitches wanna paint my nails, I think I might let 'em (go)
Find out all the benefits that comin' right wit' it (heh)
Ain't no ship, but I depart from your bitch
Ain't talkin' 45 this time I shoot at your bitch
Up your gun 'cause your 22 ain't gon' do shit
I treat your wife like my hoe, made her run it with her lips
That means she suckin' on dick, hoe
She had too many vodka spritzers
I woulda thought she was a sprinter
The way she speed-runnin' my peener, we don't fear you
Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas
Pull up in a Double R truck, f*ck a droptop
Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot
Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop
Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing
1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing
Only fans in my bed and she undressing
Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing
Writer: Tyler Baker, Luke Abad
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid