Letra de BMG
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns

Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Damn just make one
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns

Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Damn just make one
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns

And you could put it down
But I’m gon pick it up
I found out that the town ain’t big enough
Your pop ain’t dead, nigga pick it up
Don’t lock me, I don’t give a fuck
All of it’s a rental, you won’t be givin up
I don’t need covers living up
Under me so don’t make me feel him up
Cause everything got a Glock and a 4-5
Prom nigga 98, .45
In the morning I’m still swarming
Everybody’s heat while I peal up so live
In the wake I’m broken
Not on the pill but the steering wheel
How many people in here is real?
Now I gotta go and clear the field
You don’t really know me so I’m clearly gon seduce you
Pimp tight, pimp J, I’m used to
Anything, I’, really gonna make money with it
I ain’t even tell a ho what it do to
If you that mane, I ain’t even knew you
You like that joke, I’m a veteran
And I can do it way way way better then
So go ahead and put a feet on my leathering
You can call me the coach with the pin in the pad
I’mma show you how to run that game
And see? I used to be a playa
And you can look at me and tell that I’ve done that thing
Done that thing? Yea mane
Done that thing, I run that thing
Plip dumb pretty bitch, call this thin
I told er I done graduated from that clan

Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Damn just make one
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns

Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Damn just make one
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns

Now everybody go and everybody want er
Steady tryina get it or they all up on er
All up in er, you can tell er everything,
You got a big treat but the money don’t win er
Stop playing games, you for real
Everybody know, that a gun can heal
Everybody know that hold on gold
Everybody know big throw gon blow
I did this shit, run this shit
Doing this shit, run this shit
But don’t the one that’s gone, the one that sleep
The wanna, the one dead meat
This full communication that I sail
Wutchu gonna do when a gun fail?
Wutchu gon do when that gets tailed
You go about it, his nigga now oh well
Nothing, you may be standin there livin like wahoo
But you earned it
Everything go but you don’t know
So you gotta just sit and stare
I spit them facts, hit them stacks
But all this materialistic shit
I can get this back, don’t leave wit you’s
My life on none of the shit like that
So when I get, get right back up
Pull the microphone, turn it up
Roll it up, light it up
Burn it up, earn enough
Everybody gotta get it in they head
Make sure that this piff is thick
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got that shit, respect that shit

Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Damn just make one
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns

Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Bitches, money, guns
Damn just make one
Bitches, money, guns
Everybody got some
Bitches, money, guns