Jay-z - That's My B**tch lyrics

Uh, hello, can I speak to uh, uh, Yeah you know who you are Look, you had no idea what ya dealing with Something on some of this realest sh** Pop champagne yeah I'll give you a sip 'Bout to go dumb how come, Yeah, that's my b**h That's my b**h, sh-shorty right there That's my b**h, that's my b**h I've been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life, and live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high I paid for them titties, get your own It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne You say I care more about them Basquion's, Basquiats She learning a new word, its yacht Blew the world up as soon as I hit the club with her Too Short called, told me "I fell in love with her" Seen by actors, ball players and drug dealers And some lesbians that never loved n***as Twisted love story "True Romance" Mary Magdalene from a pole dance I'm a freak huh, rock star life The second girl with us, that's our wife Hey boys and girls, I got a new riddle Who's the new old perv that's tryna play second fiddle No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle But my dick worth money I put Monie in the middle I've been waiting for a long long time (Where she at? In the middle) Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life, and live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high, high, high, high Silly little vixen, mixes 'til morning I'm yearning, oh, yeah Swear you never strolled on a bottle of that potion Stop motion, ooh, yeah Go harder than a n***a for a n***a go figure Told me "keep my own money" if we ever did split up How can somethin' so gangsta be so pretty in pictures? With jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers Uh, Pica**o was alive he woulda made her That's right n***a Mona Lisa can't fade her I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice But why all the pretty icons always all white Put some colored girls in the MoMA Half these broads ain't got nothing on Willona Don't make me bring Thelma in it Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it Back to my Beyonces You deserve three stacks for the Andre Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in museums You belong in Vintage clothes watching the whole building You belong with n***as who used to be known for dope dealing You too dope for any of those civilians Now shoot trigga, stop looking at her tits Get ya own dog ya heard That's my b**h I've been waiting for a long long time Just to get off and throw my hands up high And live my life, and live my life Just to get off and throw my hands up high, high, high, high