Jay-Z

That's My Bitch
Hello, can I speak to, uh.. Yeah, you know who you are, look You had no idea what ya dealing with Something on some of this realest shit Pop champagne, I'll give you a sip 'bout to go dumb: how come? Yeah that's my bitch, that's my bitch Shorty right there? That's my bitch I've been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life and live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high I paid for them titties, get your own It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne She say I care more about them basquions Basquiats, she learning a new word, it's yacht Blew the world up as soon as I hit the club with her Too Short called, told me I fell in love with her Seat by actors, ball players and drug dealers And some lesbians that never loved niggas Twisted love story, True Romance Mary Magdalene from a pole dance I'm a freak, huh, rock star life The second girl with us, that's our wife Letras de cancionesHey boys and girls, I got a new riddle Who's the new old perv that's tryna play second fiddle No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle But my dick worth money I put Monie in the middle Where she at? In the middle I've been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life and live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high Swilling little licks and mixes ’til mornin' I'm yearnin', ooh yeah Could I maybe have another dab of your potion? Stop motion, ooh, yeah Go harder than a nigga for a nigga go figure Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up How can somethin' so gangsta be so pretty in pictures? Ripped jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers Uh, Picasso was alive he woulda made her That's right nigga Mona Lisa can't fade her I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice But why all the pretty icons always all white? Put some colored girls in the MoMA Half these broads ain’t got nothing on Willona Don’t make me bring Thelma in it Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it Back to my Beyoncés You deserve three stacks, word to André Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in museums You belong in vintage clothes crushing the whole building You belong with niggas who used to be known for dope dealing You too dope for any of those civilians Now shoo children, stop looking at her tits Get ya own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch I've been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life and live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high From Letras Mania