Too $hort (too Short) - Loyal (West Coast version) lyrics

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Too $hort (too Short) - Loyal (West Coast version) lyrics

[Intro: Lil Wayne & Chris Brown] YOUNG MULA, BABY! (Haha, you thought it was over?) [Verse 1: Lil Wayne] I wasn't born last night I know these hoes ain't right But you was blowing up her phone last night But she ain't have her ringer nor her ring on last night, oh n***a, that's that nerve Why give a b**h your heart When she rather have a purse? Why give a b**h your inch When she rather have nine? You know how the game goes She be mine by half time, I'm the sh**, oh n***a, that's that nerve You all about her, and she all about hers Birdman Junior in this b**h, no flamingos And I done did everything but trust these hoes (CB f** with me!) [Hook: Chris Brown] When a rich n***a want you And your n***a can't do nothing for ya These hoes ain't loyal These hoes ain't loyal Yeah, yeah, let me see [Bridge: Chris Brown] Just got rich Took a broke n***a's b**h I can make a broke b**h rich But I don't f** with broke b**hes [Verse 2: Chris Brown] Got a white girl with some fake titties I took her to the bay with me Eyes closed smoking marijuana Rolling up that Bob Marley, I'm a rasta She wanna do d**, smoke weed, get drunk She wanna see a n***a trap She wanna f** all the rappers [Hook] [Verse 3: Chris Brown] Black girl with a big booty If she a bad b**h, let's get to it (right away) We up in this club Bring me the bottles I know girl, that you came in this b**h with your man That's a no-no girl All this money in the air I wanna see you dance [Bridge] [Hook] [Verse 4: Too Short] A n***a fell in love Turn into a woosy 24-7 he was eating that p**y But these hoes ain't faithful A n***a like me will have your b**h on tape though I been knowing not to trust these hoes I get bread, get head, and f** these hoes In that order Don't switch it around Relationships change, it's so different now No high-school sweetheart These b**hes pimpin' All these opinions Women on women Lickin' them titties Sex in the city Hella "Instagram likes" but you ain't pretty b**h! [Verse 5: Chris Brown] Come on, come on, girl Why you fronting? Baby show me something When I call her, she gon' leave And I bet that bottom dollar she gon' cheat Come on, come on, girl Why you fronting? Baby show me something You done spent your bread on her And it's all for nothing [Hook]