Tina Snow Interlude Songtext
von Megan Thee Stallion

And if the beat live, you know Lil Ju made it
How ya like me now? ′Cause I'm real
Come, come, coming down
How ya like me now? ′Cause I'm real
Piece and, piece and
Piece and chain four shiny grills
How ya? How-?

Fake ass bitches, fake ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that′s how I roll
All this cake, with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes outta my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain′t winning that racе


Fake ass bitches, fake ass hoеs
Tint my windows and lock my doors
Everybody talking 'bout a bitch went ghost
Shit, that′s how I roll
All this cake, with all of these snakes
Gotta keep hoes out of my face
When I put that red key in my car
These hoes ain't winnin′ that race

I had to learn that some people only fuck with you when it's beneficial
And when you ain′t letting them use you no more, it become a motherfucking issue (fucked up)
You can keep telling people you don't fuck with me no more
'Cause I promise I don′t miss you (I promise I don′t) ah
And I'm still doing Hot Girl shit (ayy)
Young Tina Snow, still hard on a hoe (I′m still hard on a hoe, ah)

Fake ass bitches, fake ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake ass bitches, fake ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake ass bitches, fake ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)
Fake, fake, fake ass bitches, fake ass hoes
Tint my windows and lock my doors (lock my doors)


H-Town legend, Lil' Keke the Don, checking in
See, first off top, I′ma say this, man
It take a special motherfucker to even represent this way of life
You understand? See, this a culture where the trap star and the rap star got the same bag, man
See, the hustlers and the grinders, they just as famous as the athletes and the movie stars
See, that's real talk, the way you walk, the way you talk
The way you carry yourself gon′ tell me exactly where you from
That's legend talk, man, it ain't about the car
It′s about how the car make me feel
The way I tote it, the statement that it′s gon' make in the culture
′Cause it ain't no vinyl in the car, it′s leather all the way through
Perforated from the guts to the door panels, to the booth
We don't ride raincoat
If I got the top up on it, that motherfucker cover with the rain
Double stitched Daytona carpet, ten coats of clear on that paint
Bitch thicker than Megan, get it?

See, that′s how you talk slayer
Have you ever seen a bitch so bad a nigga spend his last on that shit?
Big titties, flat stomachs, fat asses, welcome to the culture, nigga
Slabs, bikes, muscle cars, Bentleys, Benzs, if I'm in it, I own it
Come from nothing, paper plates to paper plates
Mixtapes, fried chicken, double cups, squares, everywhere
"Ke', what you sayin′?" I say it all at the safe
How you like me now, nigga?