[Chorus]
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
[Verse 1: Gangsta Blac]
Pimpin' to the fullest, ain't no way I shook, you shake off me
Bumpin', mobbin', slobbin', so I took my doctor to the street
Twenty-something large, nothing, game-gifted, so uplifted
See, I gotta be it, 'cause the Memphis niggas full of pimpin'
Mackin' through the violence, compensation got me what I need
If you want your bitch, hide your bitch, 'fore she be on her knee
Begging for forgiveness, 'cause she fucked up and fucked off on you
Conversation made your lady do what Gangsta told her to
Never wanna fight for hoes, make 'em do as they are told
Bitch, I'm just a gangsta, once I fuck it, then I'm in control
Have I had a sucker stroke? No, have you been on that dope?
Can you call it ropes around your throat? 'Cause I'ma gon' make them dope
Fuck 'em, duck 'em, stab and cap like coffee
I like bad positions, rob 'em, tail 'em, pimp 'em, flaugin' tricks
I'm takin' school tuition if I'm coppin'
Keep me from my root, just let me shut my door
Need I show some love? Oh, and those one of them funky hoes
[Chorus]
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
[Verse 2: Lord Infamous]
Check the walls in my bedroom, could talk, they’d speak with profanity
Give explicit description of porno, now say satanically
Who am I? No D’Angelo, no, you can't be my lady
But you can, you're now cross the counter to the morning, get away (Baby)
It's easy to please me, easy to grease up and throw that P
Some berries, let every chop down in cherry, please bend your knees
Your skis are the VIPs in the fucking facilities
The whole balcony, even four hearse that rose in the balcony
Say it, you ain't no groupie or no fan of my music
Or no, every, let’s all get leery, that word I be using
Lord Infamous the Scarecrow, the little nigga bloomin' black
Roses on the street, sweet, southern peaches with skins of mahogany
Got the optional features like thick and silky hips and thighs
Tits that jiggle, lips that twitch
And every shape in your eye
If I'm acting mysterious, like magic from my mystic bliss
I need to get a Grammy from game of spittin' to a bitch
[Chorus]
I got no love for no b-i-e-otch
Fuck you all, fuck you, fuck you all