Ra - b**hes & Dishes lyrics

Chorus: Don't give no f**, ain't got time for these b**hes I ain't wearin no suit or tie, so b**h mind yo f**in business I just really wonder why, These hoes all so superficial But can't lie, they look better in heels cleanin dirty dishes Ewhh b**h you fine, like james bond we on some missions Missionary legs up high, Tryna wife me be my Mrs You know I ain't bout that life, So girl stop wit all that trippen We just f**, then clean my dishes Delete my number when you finish b**h Verse: Got this tiny girl, who stay on the tip She like my papertrails, who got swagga like this, ughh Never starved she feed me see, This p**y food and weed Keepin my stomach heavy, when we s**in She goin up and down, lookin like an uneven levy Seesaw, We spare I beat the p**y up and never leave a scar When we done, She falls off say that was fun Reach over say which weed you want I say de-pendigra** We here smokin Teddy blunts, ughh Slow jamz, But we don't romance We just f** friends, Have s** never call again Yo im lyin sh**, if its good, give it one more chance I make it rain, nah b**h I make it thunder, Kevin Durant Haha, man, Im all about that cash Lesbian missionary, titties on titties, racks on racks Call it that Cookin up that crack, Swag, sike crack is wack Dont f** with nick saks, quarter halfs and pounds in my backpack Chorus: Verse: I got a main lady, and I gotta couple b**hes Tellem to roll my weed up, and get back to the dishes Gave me 3 wishes, and spent them all on swishas Now im higher than the jumpshot by Derek Fisher Now you paint the picture, a n***a can't get witcha If you ain't down with the crew, then I ain't f**in witcha I promise ya, you ain't smokin what we smokin on No h*mo, call that Big Poppa Pump, cuz that sh** so strong Hit the blunt, guarantee you'll be comin back Me and my n***as fogged out in the lac Kamo runnin out of green, n***a never that I keep Gs on me then a f**in Gucci Bag Loud pack, never smokin on the reggie When I roll blunts, they be tighter than a wedgie Ballin so hard, my pockets gettin heavy Im on the roll, like sonic the hedgy Hedgehog, yeah ima dog She beggin for the wood, so I threw that ho a log They can't see me like im standin in the fog If the head good, then ill put it in a blog What I spent on my shoes, could of bought me a pair of tru's Gotta red and a yellabone, so homie I ain't gotta choose b**h Chorus: