Murder Mami Chords

Lyrics & chords

[Verse 1]
[Gm]Yeah! Pussies don't get pussy

[Verse 2]
Brooklyn (uh- huh)
[Gm]Kinda short, dark- skinned,
she a fly lil' bitch
Be up in all them clubs
spillin Dom P and shit
Know the boy stunt,
Jonathan Kelsey clutch
Yves Saint Laurent fronts on
her bags to the pumps
D's love her aura, Balenciago fedora
Lame niggaz bore her, struttin
like she Kimora
She'll take a kilo and stuff
it up in the coochie
Quicker than Ron,
stash it between her coochie (ha ha)
Breeze through the hood, niggaz treat
her like a O.G.
First bitch in the hood,
with the Bentley Coupe GT (yes)
Brooklyn is the team,
Alexander McQueen
Bustin down a bird and balance
it with a beam
Five five, slanted eyes,
bitch walk is mean
Mahushi Ron bracelets and
Armani jeans
They're called skinny,
my bitch is like a rasta with it
Black car, red bottoms, only mobster in it

[Verse 3]
It's like damn, bitch, niggaz lovin me [Gm]now
Oh- nine Bonnie & Clyde
doin it now - whoa
Murder murder,
these bitches ain't never heard of
Gettin money, gettin hurt up, impatient

[Verse 4]
to leak them burners
[Gm]Aiyyo Ross,
send them bitches to the boss
The blood claat flyest bad bitch
in New York
Y'all hoes better bow the fuck
down and pay homage
I'm ten million sold and that's
SoundScan knowledge
And all y'all rat bitches sound garbage
While me and Ross like the hood
version of bombings
Bars give me style like
when you steppin in my
The 38 special in my Chanel sock
Now I got the llama and Ermet's dark
Word to sly swifter fox who above me?
Say hello in pumps,
Nickelus Curt with that bomb
So ladies raise your glass

[Interlude 1]
to this man song
[Gm]

[Verse 5]
[Gm]Money ain't a thing,
just look at my pinkie rings
So many numbers in the bank,
shit could never be the same
Tall four Velours,
withdrawals by Michael Kors
And I watch a pretty penny
I'm talk[D]in hundred or more
[Gm]My critique for 'leet,
not for the cheap
And my money in the street way
longer than my receipt
Dealin with the money,
no (Monie) all (In The Middle)
I'm dealin with opponents,
they gettin riddled
Box niggaz up, on the ropes
Louis sneakers, Louis luggage,
the colognes and soaks
Smellin like money,
my body tatted with hundreds
Oh- nine Bonnie Clyde,

[Outro 1]
gotta live with it like uh
[Gm][Em]
[Gm]