For The Bitches

She picks the phone up

No one to talk to

Don't want to go out

Postmates some vodka

She has blowouts

They come for a fix

They don't even know her

They don't even know her

And they don't drive (No, not in this city)

They just ride (Past the people they pity)

They get fucked up and move on

They get fucked up and move on

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

Diamonds all in their stitches

Can't feel what they're missing

And I feel bad for them

House in the Hamptons

So many cars

She's got daddy's Amex

But she can't get his heart

They show off a photo

Just to impress

They don't even know her

They don't even know her

And they don't drive (No, not in this city)

They just ride (Past the people they pity)

They get fucked up and move on

They get fucked up and move on

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

Diamonds all in their stitches

Can't feel what they're missing

And I feel bad for them

Oh, and I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

Diamonds all in their stitches

Can't feel what they're missing

And I feel bad for them

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches (Bitches)

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

Diamonds all in their stitches

Can't feel what they're missing

And I feel bad for them

Oh, and I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

I feel bad for the bitches, bitches

Diamonds all in their stitches

Can't feel what they're missing

And I feel bad for them