Lyrics
Damn, what you doing over here?
Wassup?
Yeah, I was thinking about you the other day
And I was thinking I should have never fucked wit' your ass
I should have left you right where I found you
My bad (my bad)
When I was with you, all you ever do was bitch
Talk shit, but you could suck dick
So I didn't sweat all the fussin' and cussin'
On New Year's Eve, the night I was bussin'(blaow)
I would stress and strain to maintain
And didn't need to hear your motherfuckin' ass complain
About niggas in the house (mm), feet on the couch
Talkin' all loud (yeah), blunt in my mouth (yeah)
Bitch, I got fifty cents on this Genesis
Talkin' 'bout niggas got to vacate the premises
Sheeit, homie hit start
And outa nowhere, your ass got heart (mm)
Pulled out the plug, then you got drugged
We at it again, I tried to count to ten
There's no end to your naggin'
You can't treat me like I'm faggin', ho
You see I'm saggin' (no)
Why I gotta act like a motherfucking asshole (why?)
To be king of my motherfucking castle?
You'll never be the missus (never)
Breakin' all my dishes
And fuck all my ex bitches
Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you
The world ain't yours, the world ain't yours
Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you
The world ain't yours, the world ain't yours
On and off, off and on, bitch I'm grown
So stop playing on my phone (stop)
It was a time we can bump and grind
And find heaven (ah)
Without a motherfucking reverend
Ménage à troises and bomb-ass massages
And dreams of three-car garages
You say I'm cheating when I'm up at the studio
Come to find out you the ho, oh
And you was way out
Talkin' 'bout rap was gonna play out
And I was wasting my time writing rhymes
You made yourself loud and clear
You wanted me to choose between you and my career (bitch)
Started fucking with this baller named Chris
Couldn't resist the Rolex on his wrist
I kept on writing my raps with profanity
Now I'm on tour fucking bitches like vanity
You tried to diss this, now you miss this
And the first and fifteenth is like Christmas
Send me naked pictures but give it a rest
With Mrs. Ice Cube tattooed on your breast
Now you at the back door of my show (ha)
Dressed like a ho, askin' could you blow (no)
Hell no, but it's still delicious
Went from rags to riches
And fuck all my ex bitches
Fuck you, fuck you, especially you
The world ain't yours, the world ain't yours
Fuck you, fuck you, especially you
The world ain't yours, the world ain't yours
Now I hear you sayin', "Yeah, I used to fuck him"
Not lettin' 'em know I was a young buck then
Niggas askin' me, "Man, did you love her?"
Loved her stupid ass enough to fuck her with a rubber (bitch)
Now I hear I'm your big brother (who?)
Second cousin, friend
Bitch since when?
Incest ain't the way I swing (nah)
Never bought your ass a goddamn thing
That I had to pay for
I was hateful
Ungrateful (uh) and never faithful
Fuckin' everything that I could get my paws on
Walkin' through hell with gasoline drawers on
Now I'm on the mic, music is my life
Kids and a wife, heard you was a dyke (damn)
It's your thing if you like the switches
But it's my world and fuck all my ex bitches
Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you
The world ain't yours, the world ain't yours
Fuck you, fuck you, especially you
The world ain't yours, the world ain't yours (uh-uh)
Never go down the same road twice
Advice from the big homie Ice Cube
Hmm, girl you better get away from here
I don't want that shit no more
Nah, nah, and don't be callin' up my mama' house neither
I'm through with you, I'm through with you
I done got smarter, I done got smarter
I ain't fuckin' with your daughter
WRITERS
O'Shea Jackson, Joseph Johnson, Joseph Charles Jr. Hearne
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, EMPIRE PUBLISHING
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LyricIQ Analysis
Top Emotion
Anger
Sentiment
Theme
Race and ethnicity
