Bitter (Narration By Cardi B)

歌手： Summer Walker Cardi B • 专辑：Still Over It • 发布时间：2021-11-05 
作词 : Summer Walker/London Tyler Holmes/Arsenio Archer/Aubrey Robinson/Garrett Hamler/Derez DeShon/Cardi B
 作曲 : Summer Walker/London Tyler Holmes/Arsenio Archer/Aubrey Robinson/Garrett Hamler/Derez DeShon/Cardi B
 Mm, mm, mm (Better stop playin' with me)
(Bitch better stop playin' with me)
 Bitter, oh, mad at me, mad at my nigga (Better stop playin' with me)
 Yeah, yeah, yeah (Playin' with me)
 (Better stop playin' with me) Mm

 Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my nigga
 Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me
 This shit bigger than me and you alone
 So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'?
Bitches just be lookin' for attention

 Trust me, you can get it (Get it)
 Pull up whenever, whenever, you know I'm with it
Don't get it twisted, nothing like none of these bitches
 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 shit, for real
London, did you screw this bitch for real?
 They be on that groupie shit, for real (Ah)
And I know she thought she struck when she let a nigga ****
Man that bitch is lookin' stuck (Stuck, stuck)
 And I bet when you came that she thought she came up
Now that bitch is feelin' dumb (Bet your bitch feelin' dumb)
 She prolly thought it came with a million
 She prolly thought you changed how she livin'
Prolly thought that shit came with the fame and the riches

 Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my nigga
 Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me
 This shit bigger than me and you alone
 So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'?
Bitches just be lookin' for attention

 Pretty baby mama
 Always point her finger at a nigga, that there's the problem
 Always put the blame on a nigga and they still tryna solve it
 Always wanna gossip, her and her friend have been talkin'
 But whatever they be sayin' ain't 'bout shit
 Think they niggas supposed to pay for they outfit
 Get they nails done and then hit it, yeah
You ain't shit, bitch
 Claim you independent but ain't did shit
 Living in Section 8 and you still can't pay rent
You ain't shit, bitch
 So trust you with your momma and you ain't friendship
 But you want that child support, what you think this is? Oh
 Just because you let him smash that don't mean he ever knew ya
 Just 'cause y'all got a past, that don't mean you got a future
 This mine for life, no switchin' sides
 We ride or die, and that's why I know you

 Bitter, yeah, mad at me, mad at my nigga
 Mad at the fact he ain't witchu, mad at the fact that it's me
 This shit bigger than me and you alone
 So why you puttin' on for the Shade Room and Insta'?
Bitches just be lookin' for attention

 (Better stop playin' with me)
(Bitch better stop playin' with me)
 Well, Summer Walker, you know I been seein'
 You know, all the bullshit that's 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 bitches, like, make
 Don't let them feel like they have a one-up by destroying your moment
By ****ing 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 nigga
 Even though you have problems, put that drama in your music, yeah
'Cause if bitches wanna get clout of you, you gonna get clout of them
 And you gonna put that shit in your music
Say some shit like, "I got my own ****ing money"
Make them bitches feel hurt, hit them bitches where it hurt
 And put that shit in your music, make money off it in your music
**** these hoes
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