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lirik lagu destinys child - bills, bills, bills (trackmasters remix)

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[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 c-ke
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 h-t 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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