| The one on the right Trina, the one on her left I
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| We in a hot poster, studded in rhinestone
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| Ready to cock back, we bust your mind blown
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| Just like that braggadocious cuz I’m the dopest Brat
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| Most of my nigga’s focus on the ass thats fat
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| And I’m just so ferocious to the rythm of a high hat
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| Why ask why? |
| Cuz how, whenever I do it I buy what I wanna buy
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| Do what the f*ck I wanna do til I die
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| Shinin on everybody for the world to see
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| My timing is always perfect, endlessly
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| I deserve to swerve a little and splurge alot
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| With the nerve I got, wearin these blindin rocks
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| Got Chicago, Miami, and Philly
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| A collabo, of three of the illest bitches, really
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| Gangsta bitch, gangsta ice, gangsta whip
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| Gangsta clothes, gangsta money, gangsta shows
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| Gangsta purse, gangsta shoes, gangsta verse
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| We the bitches that the gangstas thirst
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| Gangsta song, gangsta brawn, gangsta thong
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| Huh, we the bitches that the gangstas on
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| Gangsta bottle, gangsta trees
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| Gangsta Brat, gangsta Trina, and gangsta Eve
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| Uh, uh, uh
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| Miss purina, Trina the M-I-A bitch
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| Them I play wit, eenie meenie meiny mo
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| Pickin basically the richest nigga, for the baddest bitch
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| Me, Eve, and Brat, it’s banannas shit
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| We ain’t havin this, I steps on toes
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| In a pair of hot shorts and eight inch stilletos
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| Iced out, drippin in Chanel
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| Prada, Gucci, and all that
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| I make 'em fall back
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| Hair done, fresh manni and pedicure, bikini wax
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| Gotta keep the cat smooth so when my nigga ask for the pussy
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| It’s good and wet
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| After just one f*ck, you won’t forget
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| I’m made up in the tropics gettin sunburned
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| Bare ass out with my diamond thong on
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| Nigga you thought you got yo' freak on in Japan
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| But I was gettin my creep on with yo' man
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| Cuz I’m a hot bitch…
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| Official Ryde or Die bitches, believe that
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| Uh, yo
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| When three raw bitches get together it’s off the chain
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| Thought you found a spot to fill, you lost the game
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| Boss bitches stallion, scream they name
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| Hate us cuz our life right, eatin from the game
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| Only f*ck with the realest, don’t associate with lames
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| How the f*ck can’t you feel us? |
| Three of the illest dames
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| S-E-X-Y, Trina, Brat, and oooh I
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| Bombshell, other bitches is true lies
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| I’ma keep it simple, rock how I’m meant to
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| Pretty with the heels on, or shitty with the Tim boots
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| Do it how I wanna do it, question my mind
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| You gon' understand from the rest of my lines
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| Bitch please, you might as well be on freeze, when it’s Eve
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| You ain’t really tryin to f*ck the game up, you just a tease
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| You don’t want it when I really get buck, you wanted peace
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| Have you hidin in a hole when my album got released |