Miss Blaze - Boss

Hold on
Heard they be asking for some real shit
I tell all these bitches come correct
Cause' that's all I know for real
Catch 22, you can tell by the sound
Hold on
Mhm
My bitches coming correct
I know I'm not signed
So I'm just checking for time like this is Patek
Tell ya' nigga make the drop
Yeah, these bitches want my spot
But you cannot give it to low lifes
You cannot a make that hoe yo' wife
You cannot give her the spotlight
I put the juice on a nigga
I don’t even squeeze
He asked where the box at
I know I’m a rider for real
I put my hands where you put yo' glock at
Nigga that’s right in ya' lap
This pussy da shit, and I can’t even cap
Searching for real just put down ya map
And wake up the cat when I take a nap
WAIT
He like the sound of the bed board when my legs up in my Tom Fords
I only asked for some head, Lord
He want my head in the headboard
I just want that nigga working
I’m hi-tech, I got it, I’m pretty, I’m perfect
You bitches be mad cause' yo' nigga flirting
My ex man don’t want me I’m promise I’m hurting
PSYCH.
He couldn’t buy you Louis bag
Promise I didn’t even have to ask
I asked for his wallet. He said his bro' got it
And that’s when I knew I was going sad
Hate me a nigga that sip on drank
Rather be watching you roll up dank
Promise that I will never ever chase a nigga less' he run to the bank
Yeah, I see why you bitches mad
Looking at me like I’m stopping bags
While yo' main nigga talking bout' you bad for some pussy
And I wouldn’t give him the cookie
Won’t give my soul to a rookie
She looking, but she ain’t no bully
My bitches coming correct
I be shooting my shot I’m not missing a step
Lights be on. My diamonds offset
Fit be dripping. My wrist still wet
For the neck, I shoutout my jeweler
My money still long. I don’t use a ruler
I be showing my titties like I work for hooters
Don't shoot my shot but know I got shooters
Pair the Louis bag with the Fendi shirt
The Yves Saint Laurent with the dior purse
The Loubs' be making the pinky toe hurt
If you lucky, I might let you feel on the skirt
Cause' it cost to be a boss bitch like this
Fuck a dick have you ever seen a wrist this big
Fuck ya' clique, I’ll never give a bitch my drip
From the Sip, Yeen' seen a bitch spit like this
I’m the boss
Yeah, bitch that’s me
Miss B-l-a-z- to da e
Tell the bitch I got aim if she want it with me
Pussy bitch, I got hands you know that smoke is still free
So tell ya' bitch, we coming correct.
Double c’s on the bag like we repping the set
Put the keys in ya' pocket we pushing the vet
Told em' meet me at the spot, boss
That is a bet
My bitches coming correct
I know I'm not signed
So I'm just checking for time like this is Patek
Tell ya' nigga make the drop
Yeah, these bitches want my spot
But you cannot give it to low lifes
You cannot a make that hoe yo' wife
You cannot give her the spotlight
Cause' it cost to be a boss bitch like this
Fuck a dick have you ever seen a wrist this big
Fuck ya' clique, I’ll never give a bitch my drip
From the Sip, Yeen' seen a bitch spit like this
I'm the boss

Written by:
Triniti Simmons

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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