What Kinda b*tch Do You Want lyrics

by

Project Pat


What kind of b*tch do you want
A b*tch that's right by your side
What kind of b*tch do you need
A b*tch that's ready to ride
What kind of b*tch do you want
A b*tch that's packin
What kind of b*tch do you need
A b*tch that's ready to go

Hanging out in the club and we keeping our mugs
Grilled out, thugged out and we full of them buds
I step away just for a second and my n*gga got anna
Here I come crowning b*tches, bustin heads over counters
It's going down (man what), when it's on then it's on
A couple of bruises and some scratches I can fix when I'm home
They done f*cked up, I done made my way to the parking lot
And soon a n*gga hit the door they going deaf by my shots
Cause I'mma shoot up the club, you b*tches better run
Let my n*gga go before I give you some
It's gon be some sh*t, a ho is bout to click
I shoot to kill, I'm aiming for your di*k
An ex-con on the run, so I'm totin the gun
A down b*tch bout the biz always get the job done
When you wrong, ho you wrong
Ain't no way you can hide
I'm gettin strapped up wit the fo-five's like Bonnie and Clyde
(repeat 2x)
What kind of b*tch do you want
A b*tch that's right by your side
What kind of b*tch do you need
A b*tch that's ready to ride
What kind of b*tch do you want
A b*tch that's packin
What kind of b*tch do you need
A b*tch that's ready to go

When we be sleepin, we be sleepin wit our backs to our backs
We got one leg on the land and got our hands on our straps
I'm like the bone to your spine, I'm like the clip to your nine
I'm like the thoughts in your mind, I'm like the face on your dime
When you was locked up in the pen, had you straight on dat weed
You sold more dope behind the bars than you did on the streets
A b*tch be talking sh*t ain't no need in you fightin it ho
That ho was strappin out the frame and you know that for sho
You disrespected my n*gga, that mean you f*ck wit my pimpin
Fiddin to kick you dead in your face and give a mean ass whippin
I ain't got no problem wit you n*ggas choosin drop off your cheese
I'll set you up and have my n*gga draped in all your jewelry
We hittin the block, we riding hot and I'm driving the car
He on parole, I got the gun and dough, I'm taking the charge
We gotta bust f*ckin bank, 'fore our day'll go right
I love this n*gga we together for the rest of our life (for real)
(repeat 2x)
What kind of b*tch do you want
A b*tch that's right by your side
What kind of b*tch do you need
A b*tch that's ready to ride
What kind of b*tch do you want
A b*tch that's packin
What kind of b*tch do you need
A b*tch that's ready to go
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