Hold My Purse Lyrics

Verse I
Honey, hold my purse
I will nurse/ this game back to its worth
I will curse/ these rappers, they the worse
I'm the toughest nigga in the game wearing a skirt
Straight low blows/ I-ma hit you where it hurts
Your flow/ dead, back of the hearse
I'm the new queen, new bitch, new wife
The new general left. Right?
,And in the last ten years of my life
No one can do it better unless they all dike
Underground hype/ we can't get along
I'm here for a catalog/ not for a song
You're here for a bridge/ Your bridge is over
I deliver heat! Your synthetic wig is over
I know your hoping/ I don't take notice
Cause if I do, the game will change as you know it

Verse II
Bitches/ know your/ position/ and don't act different/ when I visit
Cause when ya gone missing/ you'll be wishing/ you was listening
When I mentioned/my intention/ to christen/ the game to a good condition
You're so weak, severely malnutrition-ed
I'm pissing/ all over bitches/ like R. Kelly
Whatcha going do? You soft as jelly
And you can't tell me/ your nigga don't feel me
Well/ I feel his deli/ up in my belly
Bedroom bully/ I push down that skully
And watch ya nigga give me more head than Dudley's
I steal a bitch's man like Angelina
I then seen more men than a sports arenaJaney - Hold My Purse - http://motolyrics.com/janey/hold-my-purse-lyrics.html

They was real press, so I took 'em to the cleaners
So y'all betta stay on ya toes like a ballerina
Cause I'm a little meaner/ than Ike was to Tina
Fuck with me, your career will be fucked more than Adina's
I'm a bad bitch, ask about Janey
I'm a beast! (RAOW!!!) You can't tame me
I'm so official, I ain't playing
Let me flip it/ so you don't twist/ what I'm saying?
Buck shots! Dem no fuck around stranga!
Wi nu play, so dem livin in uh danga!
Ready fi bun dem, oonu tek di uh blazing
Blaow! Blaow! Tek di uh blazing!

Verse III
I'm a CEO/ Mid-East bitch
Every artist that was let go/ won't sell shit
I'm the best thing that entered your life
You couldn't fill my shoes, if you was wearing my Nikes
I gave you a style/ so you can run with it
Who the fuck need to get high/ before they start spitting
I'd say you some shit/ but you'd take it as a compliment
That's how muthafucking dumb you is
Two thumbs down, that's how slum you is
Stop writing, you're better at forearming your dick
I am Mike Tyson's fist/ and Steve Nash's arm, shit
That's how muthafucking strong I is
My money on that long arm ish
My words is on that far gone shit
Why don't you just pay homage kid?
Cause you'll never get on top like an Amish bitch