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fuck you - k. michelle lyrics

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[intro:]
f-ck you, f-ck you
rub your t-tties if you got nice weed
f-ck you, f-ck you
a town, stand up!

f-ck you, you’s a p-ssy n-gg- anyway
why you’re talking about me?
tell them how i rode your face!
uh, memphis… where we’re getting in
money over everything, chicks be f-cking just to win!
first 48 is the same
i can kill a b-tch dreams
have you seen me in my jeans?
if that’s your n-gg-, tell him stay up by my ringer
about to c-ck your back, watch me shoot my little finger, like

f-ck you, f-ck you
f-ck you, f-ck you
j records, i say,
f-ck you, f-ck you
f-ck you, f-ck you
mich-lle from straight from the -ss blow like
f-ck you, f-ck you
f-ck you, f-ck you
smelling like a fish market
you angry b-tches are like
f-ck you, f-ck you
i’m gonna get you some t-shirts
and say i hate…
are you hating b-tches?

let it go, uh
hold me up
f-ck you, i hate the b-tches that you came with
my ugly b-tches always want to talk the most, yeah
dumb sh-t, sweet… sh-t
real mine, f-ck you and your whole clique!
i’m from memphis, drop a k, slap a b-tch
i am in the street, and i ain’t in the sh-t
i see a lot of n-gg-s, but not a lot of me
all of a sudden, stranger b-tches trying to be my friend

f-ck you, f-ck you
for real, though,
i don’t know any of you hoes
f-ck you, f-ck you
i don’t!
f-ck you, f-ck you
f-ck you, f-ck you
to that flight attendant that don’t wanna give me another drink
f-ck you, ok!
huh, yeah, i really ain’t got no more beef, you know!
f-ck you, f-ck you
i mean to get rich,
you ain’t gotta talk sh-t!

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