Тональность: E minor
Verse 1
Em
Bm
Sweetheart,
Em
Bm
Em
let me make you understand something
These bitch always gonna have
a problem with you
For one you bad as a motherfucker
For two, your nigga having money
Verse 2
Em
Keke and Te- te got Dre-
dre and Ri- ri
My theme song on repeat,
Mesha she a rider
Throwing dick inside her
No Baby Phat no BeBe
Isabel Marant, Emilio Pucci,
Christian Louis Vuitton
Sara operated careless
Mouth on me she do it wrong
Tonya get on top of me,
probably while blowing strong
Excuse me, I meant to say A+
Fuck up her hair and makeup
In her deep, she go to sleep
And when I leave she don't wake up
Verse 3
Em
When I walk in with that bag
C
She know it's gon' be raining
F
Spending all that paper,
Em
it's a damn shame ain't it?
My little mama bad
C
Outfit look like it's painted
F
When I threw that money up
Em
them hoes fainted
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
I buy her what she want and the
world can't understand it
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Interlude 1
My ho ain't complaining
Em
Verse 4
Em
Cocaine Aston Martin,
I just bought that (I been scared to drive it)
Bm
My P.O. find out he probably ask me
Em
"how the fuck you buy it?"
Pull into the club with a bag full of bands
(scurr) and a Maserati
Pants sagging, got it raining,
her body painted
All the bitches turn they nose up,
no my ho she's not complaining
D
Em
Spend a night with me vacation, taken,
not gonna make you famous
Head back to my trap,
pull up in that Mercedes
Say she feel it in her stomach,
grip her waist, she making faces
Verse 5
Em
When I walk in with that bag
C
She know it's gon' be raining
F
Spending all that paper,
Em
it's a damn shame ain't it?
My little mama bad
C
Outfit look like it's painted
F
When I threw that money up
Em
them hoes fainted
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
I buy her what she want and the
world can't understand it
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Interlude 2
My ho ain't complaining
Em
Verse 6
Em
Ice melting, champagne bottles
D
White sand 'round, Baywatch her
C
Bm
Bad bitches in two- pieces your dame out here,
G
Bm
B
I stay grinding, I can't stop it, need eight commas,
my strap on me
Em
Bm
Em
No seat- belt, make it spray,
M- I- A, yeah heat felt
Big nuts with a lot of heart and a
foreign car with a foreign broad
D
Em
No rest and relaxation all my keys
probably say "R&R"
D
Back to jail with this pistol then that
Em
might make me a falling star
Verse 7
Em
When I walk in with that bag
C
She know it's gon' be raining
F
Spending all that paper,
Em
it's a damn shame ain't it?
My little mama bad
C
Outfit look like it's painted
F
When I threw that money up
Em
them hoes fainted
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
I buy her what she want and the
world can't understand it
Am
Them bitches mad,
Em
but my ho ain't complaining
Outro 1
My ho ain't complaining
Em
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