Gangsta Talk lyrics

[Chorus]
Doin' too many gangsta talk
I pull up and see if that gangsta talk (Yeah)
Too many b*tches be on my di*k
Got c*m in her mouth, let her babysit
You plastic b*tches, you a'ight
Stupid b*tches get me tight (Uh)
Please don't try me, get it right (Huh?)
Ya b*tch all bark and never bite (Ah)

[Verse 1]
Seen that I'm up now, they give me a call (Hello?)
I let her go to the V and I post up a flick
b*tch, I'm havin' a ball (Ha, b*tch)
My n*gga, he f*ck me to "Icey" ("Icey")
That's what I'm callin' romantic
Traditional head in a Phantom (Ooh)
He put up with all of my antics (Ah)
I'm such a c*cky b*tch (Ah)
Oh, you ain't know?
I pull up like Bobby, b*tch
VIP when I'm with the clique (Yeah, yeah)
Pull up and benefit (Woo)
You hang with the gang and you benefit (Woo, woo)
Too many b*tches gon' f*ck up my element (Ah)
You had the luxury life (Life)
I had to work for this, up in the stu' in the night (Night)
With my son, Pat
Hit the spliff and we burn packs
In the store, I need all that
In the store, I need all that (All that)

[Chorus]
Doin' too many gangsta talk
I pull up and see if that gangsta talk (Yeah)
Too many b*tches be on my di*k
Got c*m in her mouth, let her babysit
You plastic b*tches, you a'ight
Stupid b*tches get me tight (Uh)
Please don't try me, get it right (Huh?)
Ya b*tch all bark and never bite (Ah)

[Verse 2]
I hit up my boss, I tell him that I gotta cut up with Tory (Yeah)
You thought I'd be down, but look at you worried (Damn, man)
Say-say you had my back, you did me wrong
(You did me wrong, wrong)
No ghost writer wrote sh*t up on my song
I share my thoughts for the money and not for the fame
Mama, she up in the projects while I'm in LA tryna get in the game
I'm just to busy and we not the same
I'm doin' my thing though, up in the bando
Dolce Gabbana, material girl like Madonna
Like ice out, ice out
Ice all on me, I just hit a lick
Diamond, diamond, diamond, diamond dancin' on my wrist
Diamond, diamond, diamond dancin' on my wrist
Diamond, diamond, diamond, diamond dancin' on my wrist
(All on my wrist)
[Chorus]
Doin' too many gangsta talk
I pull up and see if that gangsta talk (Yeah)
Too many b*tches be on my di*k
Got c*m in her mouth, let her babysit
You plastic b*tches, you a'ight
Stupid b*tches get me tight (Uh)
Please don't try me, get it right (Huh?)
Ya b*tch all bark and never bite (Ah)