Broads

Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka... You're listening to the hottest beats But an end I wish I could sing like that Yeah, look, uh I was getting some head While I was counting some bread From a bitch with like three bags of hair in her head Ghetto chick, real bad but she stuck with her man She said she ain't a hoe, she just be fuckin' her friends I got a pretty white girl who be driving a Benz But her people hate niggas, so I hide from her friends She feel guilty 'bout her ways, so she pay me to chill This is better than if Canon came and gave me a deal I been with the candid camera, always chasing the thrill 'Til I pull up and see Candy and she tasting my spill And I get a call from Brandy, answer Candy choppin' me still She said she wanna chill, say, "Okay, I gotchu well" I hop in the wheel when Dorothy call Tierra was there, she said, "Hey babe" and she heard it all I ain't even try to hide it, I told 'em both It ain't a secret but it's private, or you gotta go Man, this seat, are you riding, or is you gon' fold? Make up ya mind girl 'cause we getting old Sorry I'm on the phone with my baby mom I got hella bitches but she the one I love So you want the next level Pushes this bitch