B'styles

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Henri B. Styles

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Mic check, Mic check
I’m in this bitch
(You heard)
Yo
Alright let’s do it
(Ha)
Run it
Bitch
(Fucking whore)
Run it
Getting ready
I’m moving steady
They can’t forget me
Feeling ruthless cause I do this
It’s engraved, stupid
And anyone who wants to face me
Just know you losin’
Goes for niggas and for bitches
A point I’m proving
And Rocky said
F*ck your clique
And f*ck your bag
And f*ck your swag
And they gon say
F*ck your clout and f*ck this sound
But they want it bad
All you feening motherfuckers
Are clocking me
Go chase a bag
Jiggy motherfucker
Don’t get it twisted
Could probably f*ck your dad
One shot, two shot, three shots, four
Henri ran up, to step on these lames
For sure
I’m a superstar
All this drip
And all this ass
I look like cash
(Money)
Pretty motherfucker
Who lives for fashion and designer bags
And I ain’t even finished yet
Lil bitch
But are you ready, for real
(Nah, they not for real)
Let's get it, huh
Yo
Slow and steady
I’m like the tortoise
They say, wins the race
You feening, for a come up
Get the f*ck up out my fucking face
You’s a lame and that’s a shame
Get out the fucking way
I live for commas, he just wants the fame
But we ain’t built the same
(Uh, yeah)
Don’t know what to say
And I don’t really f*ck with lames
I’m the illest bitch who ever walked
Your fucking way
(Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha)
Run it
Bitch
Run it
Little bitch

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