Brianna Perry - Mascara Tears lyrics

And when I think, about all the things I Gotta go through out here as a woman In this man’s world That’s what I be thinking bout Hey [Chorus] You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood You ain’t tryina f** with that dude I can tell you had enough, of this stuff Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition Of beating that p**y up I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him Baby I don’t give a f**, oh whoa If you ain’t happy then, let it go around Then come back again That awkward when they know you groupie sponsored links And you pull up to his lambo, in your dirty hoopty And he fell like he could play you cause you worth little Cause your mind small, and your work little Life is like a prom night, it only happens once, right? Better have the right dress, right pumpy They say you was never raised right Can never get them grades right Creeping in that late nights from bloody day rape fights The lost girl, lost love, red dress, the devil in Fighting for your relevance, head bu*ts, evelin You wanna be a star too, bottles from the bar too You want paparazzi popping at your car, too [Chorus] You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood You ain’t tryina f** with that dude I can tell you had enough, of this stuff Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition Of beating that p**y up I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him Baby I don’t give a f**, oh whoa If you ain’t happy then, let it go around Then come back again That awkward when they know you groupie Steady thinking, hoping that he chose me He say some simple sh** that make blush And at night, mascara runnin down your blush Cinderela slipper, he done caught you slippin Sirock sippin, goose sippin, got you talkin different Cause beeing broke got you f**in trippin Yo, watch your feet girl, you f**in trippin How you independent fountain blow Tryina kick back all them bands that you blow I guess livin ratchet got you blow Next morning, n***a lookin like “who is you?” [Chorus] You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood You ain’t tryina f** with that dude I can tell you had enough, of this stuff Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition Of beating that p**y up I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him Baby I don’t give a f**, oh whoa If you ain’t happy then, let it go around Then come back again I see your tears mama, dry your tears It ain’t worth it I swear it ain’t worth it She shed so many tears.