album cover
Loyal
W trasie
album cover
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Ostatnie 7 dni
Loyal był najczęściej odkrywanym utworem w czasie w pierwszych kilku sekundach w ciągu ostatniego tygodnia

Tekst Utworu

I wasn't born last night
I know these hoes ain't right
But you was blowin' up her phone last night
But she ain't have her ringer nor her ring on last night, oh
Oh, that's that nerve
I give a bitch a heart when she rather have a purse
You give a bitch an inch when she rather have nine
You know how the game go, she be mine by halftime
I'm the shit, oh, that's that nerve
You all about her, and she all about hers
Birdman Junior in this bitch, no flamingos
And I done did everything but trust these hoes
When a rich **** want you (want you, baby)
And your **** can't do nothin' for you (no)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (no, they ain't)
Whoa, these hoes ain't loyal (yeah, yeah)
Let me see
Just got rich (got rich)
Took a broke **** bitch
I could make a broke bitch rich
But I don't fuck with broke bitches
Got a white girl with some fake titties
Took her to the Bay with me
Eyes closed, smokin' marijuana
Rollin' up that Bob Marley, I'm a rasta
She wanna do drugs (drugs)
Smoke weed, get drunk (let me see)
She wanna see a trap
She wanna fuck all the rappers (uh-huh)
When a rich **** want you (want you, baby)
And your **** can't do nothin' for you (nothin', oh)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (no, they ain't)
Whoa, these hoes ain't loyal (yeah, yeah)
Let me see
Black girl with the big booty
If she a bad bitch? Let's get to it (right away)
We up in this club, bring me the bottles
I know, know, girl
That you came in this bitch with your man
That's a no-no girl
All this money in the air, I wanna see you dance
Just got rich (got rich)
Took a broke **** bitch
I could make a broke bitch rich
But I don't fuck with broke bitches
When a rich **** want you (want you, baby)
And your **** can't do nothin' for you (no, nothin', oh)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (no, no)
Whoa, these hoes ain't loyal (yeah, yeah)
Let me see
Rich young ****, name got bigger
My change got bigger, so my chains got bigger
Ferrari, Jaguar, switchin' four lanes
With the top down, screamin' out, "Money ain't a thing"
Me and CB in the Bay with her
I sent her back home so you can lay with her
Okay, let's talk about this ice that I'm carryin'
All these karats like I'm a fuckin' vegetarian
Shout out Weezy F, keep the redbone wet
Rose Rolex, hoes on deck, she know I got a check
Do it too good when she ride that dick (whoa)
Man, I wouldn't trust that bitch, no
Come on, come on, girl, why you frontin'?
Baby, show me somethin'
When I call her, she gon' leave
When I bet that bottom dollar, she gon' cheat
Come on, come on, girl, why you frontin'?
Baby, show me somethin'
You done spent bread on her
And it's all for nothin', yeah
When a rich **** want you (want you, baby)
And your **** can't do nothin' for you (can't do nothin' for you)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (oh, no)
Whoa, these hoes ain't loyal (yeah, yeah)
Let me see
Come on, come on
When a rich **** want you (want you, baby)
And your **** can't do nothin' for you (oh-whoa-oh)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (they been playin' games, yeah)
Whoa, these hoes ain't loyal (no)
Yeah, yeah, let me see
Let me see
Yeah, yeah, let me see
Let me see
Yeah, yeah, let me see
Written by: Bobby Brackins, Chris Brown, Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr., Mark Kragen, Michael Ray Stevenson, Nicholas Balding, Tyrone Griffin

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