Bitter (Narration By Cardi B)

Bitter (Narration By Cardi B)

Summer Walker

Better stop playing with me
Bitch better stop playing with me
Bitter, mad at me, mad at my nigga
(Better stop playing with me)
Better stop playing with me

Bitter, yeah
Mad at me, mad at my nigga
Mad at the fact he ain’t wichu’
Mad at the fact that it’s me

But this shit bigger

Than me and you alone
So why you puttin’ on
For the Shade Room and Insta
Bitch jus’ be lookin’ for attention

Trust me you can get it
Pull up whenever, whenever
You know I’m with it
Don’t get it twisted
Nothing like none of these bitches

But sometimes I get in my feelings
Sometimes I know I be tripping
But why these hoes all in our business

How he don’t care ‘bout his children?
How he’s supposed to be there y’all won’t let him get ‘em?
How you posted like that on the Gram for a thousand I bet you can’t post a picture
(Bet you can’t, bet you can’t)

Wondering if you even knew this bitch for real
London did you screw this bitch for real?
They be on that groupie shit for real

And I know she thought she struck
When she let a nigga fuck
Man that bitch is lookin’ stuck
And I bet you when you came
That she thought she came up
Now that bitch is feeling dumb

She prolly thought it came with a million
She prolly thought you changed how she living
Prolly thought that dick came with the fame and the riches

Bitter
Mad at me, mad at my nigga
Mad at the fact he ain’t wichu’
Mad at the fact that it’s me

But this shit bigger

Than me and you alone
So why you puttin’ on
For the Shade Room and Insta
Bitch jus’ be lookin’ for attention

Pretty baby mamma
Always point her finger at a nigga
That there’s the problem
Always put the blame on a nigga
And they still tryna solve it
Always wanna gossip

Her and her friend have been talking
But whatever they be sayin’ ain’t ‘bout shit
Think they niggas supposed to pay for they outfit
Get they nails and feet done and then hit it

Yeah
You ain’t shit bitch
Claim you independent
But you ain’t did shit
Living in Section 8 and you still can’t pay rent
You ain’t shit bitch
So trust you with your momma and you ain’t friendship
But you want that child support
What you think this is?
Oh

Just because you let him smash
That don’t mean he ever knew ya
Just ‘cause y’all got a past, that don’t mean you got a future
This mine for life
No switchin’ sides
We ride or die

And that’s why I know you

Bitter
Mad at me, mad at my nigga
Mad at the fact he ain’t wichu
Mad at the fact that it’s me

But this shit bigger
Than me and you alone
So why you puttin’ on
For the Shade Room and Insta
Bitch jus’ be lookin’ for attention
(Better stop playing with me)
(Bitch you better stop playing with me)

(Better stop playin’ with me)
(Bitch better stop playin’ with me)
Well, Summer Walker, you know I been seein’
You know, all the bullshit that’s been goin’ on with you today
And, you know, I don’t know if the rumors are true
I don’t know, I don’t care, it’s not my business, but if it is true
Don’t let bitches, like, make
Don’t let them feel like they have a one-up by destroying your moment
By fucking telling your business to the world
On some: Ha-ha, yeah, I’ma do it on purpose, I’ma do it spitefully
Do it your own way and do it beautifully, do it special
If you are pregnant and everything, say it in a beautiful way in your music
Say why you, you know, decided to be with your nigga
Even though you have problems, put that drama in your music, yeah
‘Cause if bitches wanna get clout off you, you gonna get clout off them
And you gonna put that shit in your music
Say some shit like: I got my own fuckin’ money
Make them bitches feel hurt, hit them bitches where it hurt
And put that shit in your music, make money off it in your music
Fuck these hoes

Circus

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