No Bars Lyrics
[Intro]
(I got Brizzy on the beat, he go crazy)
(What up, Noc)
What you workin’ with?
Yeah, what you workin’ with?
Uh, what you workin’ with?
Show a real bitch what you workin’ with
[Verse 1]
Pay for this pussy, nigga (Yeah), get yo’ bands up
Oh, you ain’t trickin’, nigga? I’ma hit yo’ mans up (The fuck)
Cold-ass cocky bitch, fur in the summertime (Brr)
He gon’ keep the bills paid ’cause he know a bitch fine
Bitches always in my business, “JT, what you really do?” (What?)
I be at home playin’ fetch by a swimmin’ pool (Bing)
I’m a real big dog, bitch, you a Scrappy-Doo
Doin’ all that wifey shit knowin’ he don’t fuck with you
Poster girl pussy, in yo’ nigga dreams
I’ma hold a semi, bust whoever in between (Bop)
Gangster bitch, JT, Medellín
Haven’t heard from the opps, yeah, they ain’t said a thing (Shh)
I’ll be damned, nigga, you know who I am, nigga (Huh)
Long way from crackin’ cars and pullin’ scams, nigga (Yeah)
Bitchеs on my dick, pretty like a transgendеr (Ow)
Sit this pussy on his chin in a chinchilla
Fifty floors up
Can’t hop out my coupe unless I lift the doors up (Ayy)
Told my nigga twin turbo, V8 the motor (Skrrt)
Self-esteems drop every time I show up, yeah
Wrist doin’ eighty in a thirty-five (Ice, ayy)
Shut Marni down for some furry slides (Sloppy)
Look him in his eyes and tell him dirty lies (Huh)
Cop me Chanel, nigga, thirty times
The price on this Kelly say I’m hella paid (Yeah)
Crocodile Birkin from the Everglades (Yeah)
And I ain’t gotta do a motherfuckin’ thing
I ain’t gotta do a motherfuckin’ thing, bitch (Period)
[Bridge]
Told y’all hoes I don’t work jobs
I am a motherfuckin’ job
Bitches always in my motherfuckin’ business
Worried ’bout what the fuck I got goin’ on, ho
Hahahaha, it’s City Girl shit (Ho)
Even when you think it ain’t City Girl shit
(I’m a City Girl, bitch)
[Verse 2]
Second verse to you hatin’-ass hoes (Tired-ass)
Who get mad every time I strike a pose (Damn)
I’m Rick’d down from my head to my toes (Yep)
Hood bitch, dressed like a weirdo (Huh)
Run away, now I’m steppin’ in some runway
Bitch, you can’t fuck with me on yo’ birthday (Never)
Free my real bitches, Corrlink and J-Pay (Free my bitches)
You gon’ be home, fuck what the judge say
I’m low-key, bitches fuck with my anxiety
I’m prayed up, and I’m waitin’ on my rivalry
I’m the hype, nah, y’all ain’t gotta hype me
I’m that bitch, give a fuck who don’t like me
It’s grind time, no flossin’ (Let’s get it)
Pulled out the truck and put the Porsche in
These bitches tired, they exhausted (Tired-ass hoes)
Got bitches tannin’ for this dark skin
Bitch, I’m really from the trenches
Where it’s shots, I ain’t talkin’ ’bout syringes (Bop, bop, bow)
Yeah, I’m really from them trenches
Pretty-ass lips make these bitches cop syringes, mwah
No bars
