1000 Bitches ft. YSC Choppa Lyrics

Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas

Pull up in a Double R truck, fuck a droptop

Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot

Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop

Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing

1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing

Only fans in my bed and she undressing

Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing

Chief Keef in my blunt, I ain't talkin' bang bang

MJ in '96, I'm carrying the team, man

Hakeem the Dream and I'm shootin' from the deep end

Neiman, I just want the rings man, I just want the finer things for my fuckin' team, man

She think I'm her ride or die, I'm just fuckin' her for the night, yeah

She thought I was the sweetest thing, I fucked up her life, yeah

Made her run it back with her lips until I splooged on her

You got me rippin' out my heart, sista

You got me feelin' like I'm hard, bubba

You can catch me reachin' for the stars, on God

You can catch me fadin' all the opps, oh yeah

Ain't no ship, but I depart from you

This 45 a shame for you, gun 'em down and shake 'em, bubba

We put the curbs to their faces, brotha, stomp 'em down and blame anotha

Sock ya brotha right in front of ya, don't be afraid to frame a bubba

Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas

Pull up in a Double R truck, fuck a droptop

Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot

Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop

Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing

1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing

Only fans in my bed and she undressing

Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing

I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya, yeah

I'mma pull a fully out and let it go on ya

Yeah we watch out for the opps 'cause they could do the same to us

Nah I'm playin', we make a fool of 'em (haha)

Watch me pull your bitch's titties out and splooge on 'em (woah)

See me turn this party to a finger-blast function (yeah)

Bitches wanna paint my nails, I think I might let 'em (go)

Find out all the benefits that comin' right wit' it (heh)

Ain't no ship, but I depart from your bitch

Ain't talkin' 45 this time I shoot at your bitch

Up your gun 'cause your 22 ain't gon' do shit

I treat your wife like my hoe, made her run it with her lips

That means she suckin' on dick, hoe

She had too many vodka spritzers

I woulda thought she was a sprinter

The way she speed-runnin' my peener, we don't fear you

Fear you, bubba just wanna count the commas

Pull up in a Double R truck, fuck a droptop

Too faded at Neiman Marcus wit' my main slop thot

Ain't no window shoppin' up in here, I'mma cop cop

Pull up in the track to the trap and let it sing sing

1000 bitches on an island, ain't talkin' dressing

Only fans in my bed and she undressing

Chrome Hearts on my back, I ain't even flexing