Bourbon Freestyle Lyrics – Megan Thee Stallion

Goddamn, y’all hoes watch everything l do
Oh, creep-ass, freak-ass peeping Tom-ass, bitch
Ayy, hmm

I ain’t got beef with nobody ’bout shit (‘Bout shit)
We all know who the A-bitch is
Y’all keep arguin’ ’bout edited pics (Esited pics)
Ask my accountant, he’ll tell you it’s lit (Mwah)

Bitch going live from that dirty-ass crib
Think you my opp, but it’s in your head
I’m doing any bitch coming for me
I sell out arenas, the fuck is you sayin’?

They give him a cookie for coming for me
But won’t give them a stream, won’t invest in the team
Mission accomplished you got you lil’ comments
But all of that hating ain’t buy you a thing

All of this love bought me a chain
And for a show and I bought me a Ran’
Bitches buy ass, ain’t fixing the face
Be coming for me, better pick up the pace

Hot Girl Productions, head of the label
Nothing but hits coming out of the stable
Shout out to God ’cause he set up the table
On everything, everybody ain’t able

Killy, we know who been taking the payments
We see who name bringin’ the case and engagement
We know the people in [?] with arrangements
I know the ones that ain’t but what they came with
Man, fuck these bitches
Fuck, these niggas
Fuck, they feelings

Way too much dick eating on Twitter
A rap nigga dick park, pass me the dinner
Niggas ain’t making these labels no money
Everything they make, going straight to the dealer

I wear rocks, bitch, I feel like Jigga
A real bum shell gettin’ turn in the villa, ah
Smoother than [?] detergent
Bitch, I ain’t fuckin’, I’m workin’

Gift these niggas wanna tell my business
Damn near thought I was perfect
He text me say 911, he need this pussy urgent
These bitches ain’t built like me, they tryna find a surgeon

Bitch, these niggas love this ass
I ain’t finna stop twerking, hmm
Bitch, I’m sowing, load this money
I ain’t never finna stop working, yeah, hm
I’ve been balling for so long, I think I’m Kyrie Irving
I’m a tall drink of water
Pussy like a shot of bourbon, ah, hmm

You know I’m sick of you motherfuckers
Acting like I don’t be rapping my ass
Off, hmm
I know a booth hate to see one of you [?]
Rapping-ass bitches coming

I slang more chicken heads than Roscoes
More blue in my thread than an iPhone, hmm
These ho fake hung like a strap on
Hermès every color and a pantone, yeah

I buck on that dick like I’m half horse
Ass sittin’ up high like a minotaur
Bitch, need a pimp help, can’t spit a bar
Spit your best when you tryna get a nigga off

JB cuttin’ for niggas that do the bare minimum
Come to me, everybody get critical
They be forcing, that hating it’s pitiful
Bitches lame and I don’t wanna sit with ’em

Bitches mouthin’, I don’t wanna click with ’em
Coming for me like I’m putting dick in ’em
They compare you to me, you a synonym
I’m producing these bitches like Timbaland

P-p-p-p-pop it back
Hear how that pussy smack
Fuckin’ hoes that wanna be me
He want some copy cat

Ooh, you thought you really made it
I know these bitches mad
All these lil’ hoes come and go
Like they be selling ass

Every rainbow print, that’s vintage
I ain’t even ask how much you spent in
Bought it in Japan, so a bitch can’t get this
[?] couldn’t make me a mistress

All my accounts got all my interest
On my own, lil’ boy, on Pinterest
[?] that work, don’t need no assistance
Ain’t a bitch opp this vicious

Hmm, and if you sick of me
Bitch, you better stay on bed rest
‘Cause I’m finna f##k up the rest of your year
Haha, Bye…