Enough/Better

Lyrics

Part 1: Enough [Intro: JT, Yung Miami] Y'all hoes done fucked up Bitch, don't make me come out, wig in a rubber band (Band) Wait Slap a bitch down with the fuck shit I'm talkin' to you ho Y'all hoes better turn up [Verse 1: Yung Miami] Enough is enough, bitch City Girls with the fuck shit Nah, don't blame it on you drunk bitch (Nah) See we can wylin', ho The whole clique gon' follow ho (Bitch) Be at your door like Domino's And your main nigga love me (Haha) Bruh been tryna fuck me For the bread, walk him like a puppy (Walk him) It ain't no love for you both side playin' hoes Play with your kids or the radio, bitch Another comma, millionaire status A cool one, twenty on the Patek Dope bitch, magic I live a poor bitch dreams (Yeah) Coco Chanel me, please [Verse 2: JT] Y'all hoes too dangerous (Dangerous) In my comments, talkin' crazy (Crazy) But I can't make no bitch famous (Nah) City Girls ain't changing But shit, how could you blame me? (Blame me) Bein' me made me famous Titties sittin', no sports bra (Yeah) Fuck a nigga in a sports car (Skrrt) Spike his drink at a sports bar Y'all hoes make me sick Always cuffin' tricks Calling phones, talkin' slick Lil' bitch, who taught you? Mama should abort you If you in my view, I would've pulled up and fought you But I'm way up, you bitches too low New ass, new teeth, bitch, check out the glow (Period) [Outro: Yung Miami] Bitch, don't make me put my wig in a rubber band (Band) Slap a bitch down with the fuck shit (Fuck shit) Y'all hoes better turn up Part 2: Better [Verse 1: JT] Didn't think bitches like us could do better From Dade County, straight to Coachella My heart cold, better bring two sweaters And your best bitch, we'll take whoever Gutter bitch, grace the cover of the billboards Locked up, nominated, BET awards City Girls, talk that shit they scream Real ass bitch, I ain't flex for streams I'm fresh out, niggas comin' in varieties I'm fightin' loss, fightin' demons and anxiety I really used to sleep on palettes Now I'm sittin' in the condo like it's a palace [Verse 2: Yung Miami] Main bitch locked up, had to hold it down (Down) With a baby in my stomach at the Rolling Loud (Facts) Uh, kept you bitches out my game room (Period) 'Cause y'all the same fake hoes from The Shade Room (Shade Room) I came from runnin' outta stores to awards shows (Blessed) Momma we made it, can't wait 'til you come home Shot up my Benz, I was pregnant, I was seven months (Damn) Me and baby Summer too blessed up (Blessed up) Now everybody want a verse from us All the trappers wanna go and cop a purse for us Brought a bag to the hood when I touch down (Touch down) Did this shit for Dade County, yeah, we up now [Outro: JT] Man, don't make me put this wig in a rubber band again (Wig in a rubber band again) Still the same, ain't changed, just changed where I live (Changed where I live)