FDB (f*ck Dat b*tch) G-Mix lyrics

West Side, Bankhead, is where I'm from
Everything y'all did has been done
My True game and my shoe game
You can't touch that sh*t
A b*tch that holler 'bout "f*ck me?"
Nah, f*ck that b*tch
f*ck that b*tch, f*ck that b*tch
A b*tch that holler 'bout "f*ck me?"
Nah, f*ck that b*tch
f*ck that b*tch, f*ck that b*tch
A b*tch that holler 'bout "f*ck me?"
Nah, f*ck that b*tch

[Lil K]
Ima real ass n*gga came from the south
f*ckin with b*tches who from the bronx
pus*y so good ,n*gga name me one
Trunk full drugs n*gga hit one
Up in my condo I smoke up
Cali bud,red head name one
Jackpot hittin them bank rolls
Yeh n*gga know we full paper
Money to the ceiling tall as jordan
Never loosing money like kobe
n*gga im on it like rollie
Pockets full of green I spend it
My girl so curious I bend her
Using no rubber on her tho
f*ckin my ho like f*ck dat b*tch
Im still in the cold
Get a plane and smoke
Stamp my name on her like an envolope
n*gga yeh we shootin your cantalope
50k on me like bang'em all
Shout out to young dro
And the west side n*ggas
Everywhere we go we bankheads n*ggas
All the Westside n*ggas say f*ck dat b*tch
Ya'll already know im on my sh*t bout to hit that sh*t like f*ck DAT b*tch
West Side, Bankhead, is where I'm from
Everything y'all did has been done
My True game and my shoe game
You can't touch that sh*t
A b*tch that holler 'bout "f*ck me?"
Nah, f*ck that b*tch
f*ck that b*tch, f*ck that b*tch
A b*tch that holler 'bout "f*ck me?"
Nah, f*ck that b*tch
f*ck that b*tch, f*ck that b*tch
A b*tch that holler 'bout "f*ck me?"
Nah, f*ck that b*tch

[Verse 2: Young Dro]
I’mma go three… stupid on the remix
I’mma show you how to raise up out the fire like a phoenix
I’m a Bankhead n*gga, so I’m straighter than a p*nis
If you try to West Side, I’mma let off like semen
Ice got me anemic, walkin’ up in Nieman’s
And every time I get a new broad, I get subpoenaed
My baby mama mad my girl look like a genie
I’ve got racks like Venus, 20 stacks in…
Bread like panini, eat steaks and zucchini
With your broad in Tahiti, spaghetti string bikini
I don’t spit on tracks, I throw up on ‘em like bulimic
Pardon, my “High Tymes” album a problem
[Hook: Young Dro]

[Verse 3: T.I.]
…and the yacht match the Rollie, ice like a hockey player
Kick it like a soccer player, n*ggas hatin’ like a goalie
Long neck, group sex all your b*tch got for me
We’ve been walkin’ under stars since midnight, homie
Had a shorty, pus*y, hit it like a fistfight, homie
My di*k only know what she kiss like, homie
See the molly got her goin’, you be callin’, she ignorin’
I went balls-deep in her, n*gga, you ain’t even know it
Blowin’ Headband, strongest in the land
Say you hit it, so you ain’t the only n*gga can
She wanna be a freak, you wanna be a man
Get head in a Coupe, sex in a Sprinter van
Runnin’ full-court game, no one-on-one
Take that doll, hit her one-on-one
Ain’t nothin’ else to do, she wanna c*m for fun
I’m by myself, hop, run, no one
n*gga she want me like Givenchy
In a presendential suite, n*gga, me on three
Why they call me “pus*y Pumper”, n*gga, she gon’ see
Like she gon’ see, like she gon’ see…
Okay, Hustle Gang, n*gga, only thing I wear
Oh yeah, and…
And… you know me, ho
Know where I’m from, know where I rep
[Hook: Young Dro]

[Verse 4: Trinidad James]
Southside Clay. Co., that’s where I’m from
I’m on these red bottoms, Rick Owens…
I’ve been rockin’ them Jordans
I said now AG, compound – give me money, I’ll throw it
My hair’s luxurious – your sh*t ain’t growin’ (lame)
I’ve got a smile on my face like Dro’s old cover
f*ck you b*tch on the couch, no cover
n*gga f*ck your couch, I’m Rick James, brother
She a super freak, she don’t like no rubbers
f*ck you, n*gga, then f*ck your cousin
For some shoes and a couple hundreds
I thought you knew, let me teach you somethin’
She’ll suck me and kiss you like it ain’t nothin’
…that b*tch cold – n*gga, now you know
You hold onto pus*y (lame) I’ve pus*y on hold (pimp)
I get a whole lot of pus*y, n*gga, after my show
Red, black and white girls… yeah, them Trinidad’s hoes

[Hook: Young Dro]