เนื้อเพลง B*tchxs Got Money - Tom MacDonald

Whoo
Tom Mac f*cking Donald
My b*tches got money

I don't f*ck around with no broke hoes, my b*tches got money
My b*tches got money, my b*tches got money
I don't f*ck around with no rap hoes, but those b*tches love me
Those b*tches love me, those b*tches love me
They come around and burn then they turn up on me
Like it's exactly how it's supposed to be and now they want it
Now they want it, now they want it

No more new hoes, I been keepin' up with my old ones
Rollin' around with the same ones that best friends with my day ones
They want the same things that everybody else do
Gold teeth and gold chains and gold rings and dope shoes
My old b*tches ain't 'round here, the new girls that I found here
So high that each time we f*ck it's not the first time they down here
My bottom makin' yellow gold, I'm tryna get my tops done
P*ssy just like bills and she got both so let her pop some

I don't f*ck around with no broke hoes, my b*tches got money
My b*tches got money, my b*tches got money
I don't f*ck around with no rap hoes, but those b*tches love me
Those b*tches love me, those b*tches love me

No more new p*ssy, the good p*ssy is all here
I don't need no broke b*tches, money talks and I'm all ears
I'm all in, I fall in then I wake up in that good good
I'd call in but I don't work, I just smoke that good good
We f*ck like it's the last time we'll f*ck but sh*t, it never is
We always doin' things that we done heard of but never did
We kiss like we're in love but sh*t, we never were
We act like we got sh*t in common, light one and just let it burn

I don't f*ck around with no broke hoes, my b*tches got money
My b*tches got money, my b*tches got money
I don't f*ck around with no rap hoes, but those b*tches love me
Those b*tches love me, those b*tches love me
They come around and burn and then they turn up on me
Like it's exactly how it's supposed to be and now they want it
Now they want it, now they want it

Threesome for breakfast and good weed for dessert
Champagne for lunch and more p*ssy for dinner
Eat her, teach her she looks good with no t-shirt
Then leave her, don't keep her, your homie need her
Love at first sight when he walk in and see her
Then leave them alone to do whatever please her
She realer than most, she peel off her clothes
She need you to feed her so she don't go broke

I don't f*ck around with no broke hoes, my b*tches got money
My b*tches got money, my b*tches got money
I don't f*ck around with no rap hoes, but those b*tches love me
Those b*tches love me, those b*tches love me
They come around and burn and then they turn up on me
Like it's exactly how it's supposed to be and now they want it
Now they want it, now they want it