Enough/Better Lyrics by City Girls is latest English song with music also given by her. Enough/Better Song lyrics are written by City Girls.
Enough/Better Song Detail
Singer: City Girls
Composer: City Girls
Lyrics by: City Girls
Enough/Better City Girls
Y’all hoes done f—– up
B—-, don’t make me come out, wig in a rubber band (Band)
Wait
Slap a b—- down with the f— s—
I’m talkin’ to you ho
Y’all hoes better turn up
Enough is enough, b—-
City Girls with the f— s—
Nah, don’t blame it on you drunk b—- (Nah)
See we can wylin’, hoe
The whole clique gon’ follow hoe (B—-)
Be at your door like dominoes
And your main n—- love me (Haha)
Bruh been tryna f— me
For the bread, walk him like a puppy (Walk him)
It ain’t no love for you both side playin’ hoes
Play with your kids or the radio, b—-
Another comma, millionaire status
A cool one, twenty on the Patek
Dope b—-, magic
I live a poor b—- dreams (Yeah)
Coco Chanel me, please
Y’all hoes too dangerous (Dangerous)
In my comments, talkin’ crazy (Crazy)
But I can’t make no b—- famous (Nah)
City Girls ain’t changing
But s—, how could you blame me? (Blame me)
Bein’ me made me famous
T—— sittin’, no sports bra (Yeah)
F— a n—- in a sports car (Skrrt)
Spike his drink at a sports bar
Y’all hoes make me sick
Always cuffin’ tricks
Calling phones, talkin’ slick
Lil’ b—-, who taught you?
Mama should abort you
If you in my view, I would’ve pulled up and fought you
But I’m way up, you b—— too low
New a–, new teeth, b—-, check out the glow (Period)
B—-, don’t make put my wig in a rubber band (Band)
Slap a b—- down with the f— s— (F— s—)
Y’all hoes better turn up
Didn’t think b—— like us could do better
From Dade County, straight to Coachella
My heart cold, better bring two sweaters
And your best b—-, we’ll take whoever
Gutter b—-, grace the cover of the billboards
Locked up, nominated, BET awards
City Girls, talk that s— they scream
Real a– b—-, I ain’t flex for streams
I’m fresh out, n—– comin’ in varieties
I’m fightin’ loss, fightin’ demons and anxiety
I really used to sleep on palettes
Now I’m sittin’ in the condo like it’s a palace
Main b—- locked up, had to hold it down (Down)
With a baby in my stomach at the Rolling Loud (Facts)
Uh, kept you b—— out my game room (Period)
‘Cause y’all the same fake hoes from The Shade Room (Shade room)
I came from runnin’ outta stores to awards shows (Blessed)
Momma we made it, can’t wait ’til you come
Shoutout my [?], I was seven months (Damn)
Me and baby son was too blessed up (Blessed up)
Now everybody want a verse from us
All the trappers wanna go and cop a purse for us
Bought a bag to the hood when I touchdown (Touchdown)
Did this s— for Dade County’, yeah we up now
Miami, don’t make me put this wig in a rubber band again (Wig in a rubber band again)
Still the same, ain’t changed, just changed where I live (Changed where I live)