Kanye West – That's My Bitch Lyrics
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[Intro: Kanye West]
Hello, can I speak to, uh..
Yeah, you know who you are, look
You had no idea what ya dealing with
Something on some of this realest shit
Pop champagne, I'll give you a sip
'bout to go dumb: how come?
Yeah that's my bitch, that's my bitch
Shorty right there? That's my bitch
[Hook: Elly Jackson]
I've been waiting for a long long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
[Verse 1: Kanye West]
I paid for them titties, get your own
It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne
She say I care more about them basquions
Basquiats, she learning a new word, it's yacht
Blew the world up as soon as I hit the club with her
Too Short called, told me I fell in love with her
Seat by actors, ball players and drug dealers
And some lesbians that never loved niggas
Twisted love story, True Romance
Mary Magdalene from a pole dance
I'm a freak, huh, rock star life
The second girl with us, that's our wife
Hey boys and girls, I got a new riddle
Who's the new old perv that's tryna play second fiddle
No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle
But my dick worth money I put Monie in the middle
Where she at? In the middle
[Hook]
[Bridge: Justin Vernon]
Swilling little licks and mixes ’til mornin', I'm yearnin', ooh yeah
Could I maybe have another dab of your potion? Stop motion, ooh, yeah
[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Go harder than a nigga for a nigga go figure
Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up
How can somethin' so gangsta be so pretty in pictures?
Ripped jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers
Uh, Picasso was alive he woulda made her
That's right nigga Mona Lisa can't fade her
I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice
But why all the pretty icons always all white?
Put some colored girls in the MoMA
Half these broads ain’t got nothing on Willona
Don’t make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it
Back to my Beyoncés
You deserve three stacks, word to Andre
Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in museums
You belong in vintage clothes crushing the whole building
You belong with niggas who used to be known for dope dealing
You too dope for any of those civilians
Now shoo children, stop looking at her tits
Get ya own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch
[Hook]
Hello, can I speak to, uh..
Yeah, you know who you are, look
You had no idea what ya dealing with
Something on some of this realest shit
Pop champagne, I'll give you a sip
'bout to go dumb: how come?
Yeah that's my bitch, that's my bitch
Shorty right there? That's my bitch
[Hook: Elly Jackson]
I've been waiting for a long long time
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
And live my life and live my life
Just to get off and throw my hands up high
[Verse 1: Kanye West]
I paid for them titties, get your own
It ain't safe in the city, watch the throne
She say I care more about them basquions
Basquiats, she learning a new word, it's yacht
Blew the world up as soon as I hit the club with her
Too Short called, told me I fell in love with her
Seat by actors, ball players and drug dealers
And some lesbians that never loved niggas
Twisted love story, True Romance
Mary Magdalene from a pole dance
I'm a freak, huh, rock star life
The second girl with us, that's our wife
Hey boys and girls, I got a new riddle
Who's the new old perv that's tryna play second fiddle
No disrespect, I'm not tryna belittle
But my dick worth money I put Monie in the middle
Where she at? In the middle
[Hook]
[Bridge: Justin Vernon]
Swilling little licks and mixes ’til mornin', I'm yearnin', ooh yeah
Could I maybe have another dab of your potion? Stop motion, ooh, yeah
[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Go harder than a nigga for a nigga go figure
Told me keep my own money if we ever did split up
How can somethin' so gangsta be so pretty in pictures?
Ripped jeans and a blazer and some Louboutin slippers
Uh, Picasso was alive he woulda made her
That's right nigga Mona Lisa can't fade her
I mean Marilyn Monroe, she's quite nice
But why all the pretty icons always all white?
Put some colored girls in the MoMA
Half these broads ain’t got nothing on Willona
Don’t make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it
Back to my Beyoncés
You deserve three stacks, word to Andre
Call Larry Gagosian, you belong in museums
You belong in vintage clothes crushing the whole building
You belong with niggas who used to be known for dope dealing
You too dope for any of those civilians
Now shoo children, stop looking at her tits
Get ya own dog, ya heard? That's my bitch
[Hook]
