Bills, Bills, Bills (Trackmaster's Remix) de Destiny's Child

Letra da musica Bills, Bills, Bills (Trackmaster's Remix) de Destiny's Child

Bills, Bills, Bills (Trackmaster's Remix)
Bills, Bills, Bills (Trackmaster's Remix)

Feating Jazz, And Sporty Theivz
[Jazz]
I stay away from cats that rap
That ain't got traps
And producers that make tracks
That ain't got no plaques
I'm J to the A-Z-Z, chrome Z3
You ain't balling, you ain't rolling with me
Jazz said it
These cats ain't cheap, they broke
Take me to a flick
Can't even buy me a Coke
All them quick say you ain't gettin' nada from us
Cause in their pockets they ain't got nada but dust
Come on, come on

[Beyonce]
Why you sitting here under me
Giving me grief
Saying you love me
You know you're lying through your teeth
Living it up
The good life for free
I don't know what you want from me
Don't you know I need somebody who can do me right
And keep his pockets tight
I don't know why I keep taking this mess from you

1 - [Destiny's Child]
I need a baller
Someone not like you
Who do me right
You're triflin', good for nothing, type of brother
Keep a sister working day and night

[Kelly]
I don't think you do
So you and me are through, oh ooh

2 - [Destiny's Child]
I'm looking for a man who will pay my bills
Pay my car note, give me what I want
Keep a sister real tight
And ladies if you hear me say right
(Right, right)
Cause I don't really wanna have to front the bills
Buy your clothes, give you everything you want
Cause I can't go for that, can't go for that, no, no
I can't go for that

[Beyonce]
So you rolling around in my drop six
Frontin', telling your boys how you copped it
Leeching off of me all the time
Why won't you just get a life
You really don't get it
I spend my money on myself
I gotta move on and find somebody else

Repeat 1

[Kelly]
I don't (I don't)
Think you (Think you)
You do
So you and me are through

Repeat 2 (2x)

[Sporty Thievz]
Hey yo this one babe
After we done laid
Started telling me about bills that's unpaid
And you know me, I'm that nada cat
Type to loan you a buck, get my dollar back
You holla at, me
Like you want me to trick, trick
I trick you into letting me hit
Said she ain't a pigeon and she hate nada
Uh-oh, put you off with the fake Prada, uh-oh

I'm getting dough but it ain't splendid
Offended, cause they tax for it when I make it
Running game when I spend it
Then chicks hit me with that "Kirk, let me get that"
Then I hit back
"Alright! Well first let me hit that"

Yo when I flow for her
Blow for her, get dough for her
Cop an O for you, and trip and what you can't go for it
Let's get it down to the nitty-gritty
Yo pretty-bitty
Give me two years and I might consider you for fifty-fifty
Shot caller

Repeat 2 till end

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