Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song It's Hard Being Wifee, artist - Noreaga.
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
It's Hard Being Wifee |
Ughh, ladies, y’know how that sayin’goes |
Be careful what you ask for in life |
Cuz you just might get it Dependin’on what you ask for, what you get? |
You might not be able to get out of You heard? |
Ughh |
Niggas might take advantage if you let 'em |
Play your cards right, and if you fuck 'em in the same night |
Make sure that he don’t snitch |
Must be up to sumpin’or be lyin’on his dick |
Shit, you know how niggas flick from gettin’pussy to head |
'Til you spent yo’brant and blew his dick |
Especially if he trick, shit |
Don’t complain bitch, do yo’thang and cop that ring |
When he hit you with that game, you be like |
A’ight, dude, whatever and sleep on it Put like a week on it, get the Benz Jeep and creep on it Do you like yeah, faggot, screw you |
Fuck am I to do now? |
Just lay back like I’m that lame bitch |
Dude, I’m that same bitch, don’t you know? |
Never cross no hoe |
Especially if she was Wifee and she know where the snatch go Fuck you wildin’fo'? |
Who you stylin’fo'? |
And the truth is he fuckin’with the deuce kid |
He don’t know that I stick and move |
Get him right for that Chyna White |
Nothing to lose, and I see right through him |
Yeah, we fuckin’tonight |
And the Duke ain’t what he talkin’then I’m truckin’tonight |
And if he sweet with the big ones, I’m lucky tonight |
And if he packin’like he yappin', I’m doin’him right |
Yo, when your man ain’t fuckin’you right |
And the dope that he singing |
In the hood ain’t that Chyna White |
We say fuck 'em, fuck 'em |
Cuz he just ain’t right |
We say fuck 'em, fuck 'em |
Cuz he just ain’t tight |
Yo, when your man ain’t fuckin’you right |
And the dope that he singing |
In the hood ain’t that Chyna White |
We say fuck 'em, fuck 'em |
Cuz he just ain’t right |
We say fuck 'em, fuck 'em |
Cuz he just ain’t tight |
Ughh, mostly, they’ll play you closely |
Especially if you fuckin''em, and he think you trustin’him |
Damn bitch, you lovin''em, impressed like that |
Bomb head, e’ry night, is the sex like that? |
Yeah, you ain’t know, I would stress like that |
Over due, not his ones, he don’t handle like that |
Shoulda known not to fuck wit no light weight cats |
Rollin’doves in his stacks, I ain’t fuckin’wit that |
I’m like 'Dude, where the fuck is yo’big heads at?' |
And you know how I get down, I don’t pumps like that |
Plus he act funny, and he only fuck with track money |
And I’m, seven zero platinum-plat money, it’s not a game, nigga |
And like Sparkle, Be Careful What You Say, nigga |
The kind of cat that make wonder if he was sent to do this |
Put it down for you, first chick he ever cried fo' |
Never had a chick that raps like this |
Ain’t impressed for no C cuz we straight like this |
And he makes it very clear baby mothers don’t exist |
They just some Fox haters and condom breakers, ya heard? |
Ughh, the situation is |
Y’all chicks be fuckin’with that mistress shit |
Bad broke, if not for the dough, I splits with the quickness |
Pleads no fifths, leaves no traces, ya heard? |
What the fuck is this? |
Payback shit? |
Is it God striking me for some way back shit? |
I’m like, damn, was the bitch really foul like this? |
And my loc’ing just to think I should slash my wrist |
Am I seven for me thinkin’I should total my six |
Or just straight spazz out, fuck his man and split |
Take the code to the safe and just empty his bricks |
On the low, but I know that he love when I flip |
Ya’ll bet the note, had him throw the smash game |
Shit, I got the ring bitch and his last name |
Any bitch could do a nigga whole bit |
Any bitch could luck up and have a kid |
Any chick could fuck a nigga for spite |
But the nigga got to love you if he make you his wife |
Ughh, ya’ll chicks is lonely, I’m ownin’that dick |
And on top of all this bullshit, I’m still his chick |