Summer Walker - Bitter lyrics

Featuring ,

Published

0 758 0

Summer Walker - Bitter lyrics

Bitter (Narration By Cardi B) [Intro: Summer Walker] Mm, mm, mm (Better stop playin' with me) (b*tch better stop playin' with me) Bitter, oh, mad at me, mad at my ni**a (Better stop playin' with me) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Playin' with me) (Better stop playin' with me) Mm [Chorus: Summer Walker] Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my ni**a Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me But this sh*t bigger than me and you alone So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'? b*tches jus' be lookin' for attention [Verse 1: Summer Walker] Trust me, you can get it (Get it) Pull up whenever, whenever, you know I'm with it Don't gеt it twisted, nothin' like none of thеse b*tches But sometimes I get in my feelings Sometimes I know I be trippin' (Trippin') But why these hoes all in our business? How he don't care 'bout his children? (How he don't care?) How he's supposed to be there? Y'all won't let him get 'em How you posted like that on the 'Gram for a thousand? I bet you can't post a picture (Bet you can't, bet you can't) Wonderin' if you even know this b*tch, for real London, did you screw this b*tch for real? They be on that groupie sh*t, for real (Ah) And I know she thought she struck when she let a ni**a fu*k Man that b*tch is lookin' stuck (Stuck, stuck) And I bet when you came that she thought she came up Now that b*tch is feelin' dumb (Bet your b*tch feelin' dumb) She prolly thought it came with a million She prolly thought you changed how she livin' Prolly thought that dick came with the fame and the riches [Chorus: Summer Walker] Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my ni**a Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me But this sh*t bigger than me and you alone So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'? b*tches jus' be lookin' for attention [Verse 2: Summer Walker] Bitter baby mama Always point her finger at a ni**a, whenever it's a problem Always put the blame on a ni**a instead of tryna solve it Always wanna gossip, her and her friend have been talkin' But whatever they be sayin' ain't 'bout sh*t Think a ni**a supposed to pay for they outfit Get they nails and feet done and her hair did, yeah You ain't sh*t, b*tch Claim you independent but you ain't did sh*t Live in Section 8 but still can't pay rent (Better stop playin' with me) You ain't sh*t, b*tch So leave your children your mama and you ain't raised sh*t But you want that child support, what you think this is? Oh (Better stop playin' with me) Just because you let him smash that don't mean he ever knew ya (Better stop playin' with me) Just 'cause y'all got a past, that don't mean you got a future (Better stop playin' with me) This mine for life (For life), no switchin' sides (Switchin' side) We ride or die, and that's why I know you [Chorus: Summer Walker] Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my ni**a Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me But this sh*t bigger than me and you alone So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'? b*tches jus' be lookin' for attention [Outro: Cardi B & Summer Walker] (Better stop playin' with me) (b*tch better stop playin' with me) Well, Summer Walker, you know I been seein' You know, all the bullsh*t that's been goin' on with you today And, you know, I don't know if the rumors are true I don't know, I don't care, it's not my business, but if it is true Don't let b*tches, like, make Don't let them feel like they have a one-up by destroying your moment By fu*king telling your business to the world On some, "Ha-ha, yeah, I'ma do it on purpose, I'ma do it spitefully" Do it your own way and do it beautifully, do it special If you are pregnant and everything, say it in a beautiful way in your music Say why you, you know, decided to be with your ni**a Even though you have problems, put that drama in your music, yeah 'Cause if b*tches wanna get clout off you, you gonna get clout off them And you gonna put that sh*t in your music Say some sh*t like, "I got my own fu*kin' money" Make them b*tches feel hurt, hit them b*tches where it hurt And put that sh*t in your music, make money off it in your music fu*k these hoes