JAY-Z, Kanye West - That's My Bitch lyrics
Kanye West/Ye [Kanye Omari West] Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. 🇺🇸
[JAY-Z, Kanye West - That's My Bitch lyrics]
Uh hello, can I speak to, uh
Uh yeah, you know who you are, look
You had no idea what ya dealing with
Something on some this realest shit
Pop champagne, I'll give you a sip
'Bout to go dumb, how come?
Yeah, that's my bitch that's my bitch
Sh-shorty right there? That's my bitch
That's my bitch
I've been waiting for a long, long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
(yeah)
I paid for them titties, get your own
It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne
She say I care more about them basquions
Basquiats, she learning a new word
It's yacht blew the world up soon as I
Hit the club with her too Short called
Told me I fell in love with her
Seat by actors, ball players
And drug dealers
And some lesbians that never loved niggas
Twisted love story, True Romance
Mary Magdalene from a pole dance
I'm a freak, huh? Rockstar life
The second girl with us, that's our wife
Hey, boys and girls, I got a new riddle
Who's the new old perv that's
Tryna play second fiddle?
No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle
But my dick worth money
I put Monie in the middle
I've been waiting for a long, long time
(Where she at? In the middle)
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my
Hands up high, high, high, high
Swilling little licks and mixes 'til mornin'
I'm yearnin', ooh, yeah
Could I maybe have a little
Dab of your potion? Stop motion, ooh, yeah
Go harder than a nigga for a nigga, go figure
Told me keep my own money if
We ever did split up
How could somethin' so gangster be
So pretty in pictures?
Ripped jeans and a blazer
And some Louboutin slippers
Uh, Picasso was alive, he would've made her
That's right, nigga, Mona Lisa can't fade her
I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice
But why all the pretty
Icons always all white?
Put some colored girls in the MoMA
Half these broads ain't got
Nothing on Willona
Don't make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it
Uh back to my Beyoncés
You deserve three stacks, word to André
Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in mo-seums
You belong in vintage clothes
Crushing the whole building
You belong with niggas who used to
Be known for dope dealing
You too dope for any of those civilians
Now shoo, children, stop looking at her tit's
Get your own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch
I've been waiting for a long, long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my
Hands up high, high, high, high
Uh yeah, you know who you are, look
You had no idea what ya dealing with
Something on some this realest shit
Pop champagne, I'll give you a sip
'Bout to go dumb, how come?
Yeah, that's my bitch that's my bitch
Sh-shorty right there? That's my bitch
That's my bitch
I've been waiting for a long, long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
(yeah)
I paid for them titties, get your own
It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne
She say I care more about them basquions
Basquiats, she learning a new word
It's yacht blew the world up soon as I
Hit the club with her too Short called
Told me I fell in love with her
Seat by actors, ball players
And drug dealers
And some lesbians that never loved niggas
Twisted love story, True Romance
Mary Magdalene from a pole dance
I'm a freak, huh? Rockstar life
The second girl with us, that's our wife
Hey, boys and girls, I got a new riddle
Who's the new old perv that's
Tryna play second fiddle?
No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle
But my dick worth money
I put Monie in the middle
I've been waiting for a long, long time
(Where she at? In the middle)
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my
Hands up high, high, high, high
Swilling little licks and mixes 'til mornin'
I'm yearnin', ooh, yeah
Could I maybe have a little
Dab of your potion? Stop motion, ooh, yeah
Go harder than a nigga for a nigga, go figure
Told me keep my own money if
We ever did split up
How could somethin' so gangster be
So pretty in pictures?
Ripped jeans and a blazer
And some Louboutin slippers
Uh, Picasso was alive, he would've made her
That's right, nigga, Mona Lisa can't fade her
I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice
But why all the pretty
Icons always all white?
Put some colored girls in the MoMA
Half these broads ain't got
Nothing on Willona
Don't make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it
Uh back to my Beyoncés
You deserve three stacks, word to André
Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in mo-seums
You belong in vintage clothes
Crushing the whole building
You belong with niggas who used to
Be known for dope dealing
You too dope for any of those civilians
Now shoo, children, stop looking at her tit's
Get your own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch
I've been waiting for a long, long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life, and live my life
Just to get off and throw my
Hands up high, high, high, high