Bourbon Lyrics – Megan Thee Stallion

[Intro]
Goddamn, y’all hoes watch everything l do
Oh, creep-ass, freak-ass peeping Tom-ass, b!tch (Hahaha)
Ayy, hmm

[Verse 1]
I ain’t got beef with nobody ’bout s*it (‘Bout s*it)
We all know who the it b!tch is (Hmm)
Y’all keep arguing ’bout edited pics (Edited pics)
Ask my accountant, he’ll tell you it’s lit (Mwah)
B!tch going live from that dirty-ass crib (Ew)
Think you my opp, but it’s all in your head (It’s all in yo’ head)
Outdoing any b!tch coming for Meg (Yuh)
I sell out arenas, the fu*k is you saying? (Yuh, ah)
They give him a cookie for coming for me
But won’t give them a stream, won’t invest in the team
Mission accomplished, you got your lil’ comments
But all of that hating ain’t buy you a thing (Buy you a thing)
All of this love bought me a chain (Yuh)
M for a show and I bought me a Ran’ (Baow)
B!tches buy ass and ain’t fixing the face (Yuh, yuh)
If you coming for me, better pick up your pace, hmm
Hot Girl Productions, head of the label
Nothing but hits coming out of the stable (Yuh)
Shout out to God ’cause he set up the table
Own everything, everybody ain’t able
Clearly we know who been taking the payments
We see who name bring the clicks and engagement (Hmm)
We know the people in blogs with arrangements (Hmm)
I know the ones that ain’t bout what they claiming (Ah)
Man, fu*k these b!tches
Fu*k, these n!ggas
Fu*k, they feelings (Fu*k they feelings)
Way too much d!ck eating on Twitter
A rap n!gga d!ck a punk ass n!gga dinner (Yeah, yeah)
N!ggas ain’t making these labels no money (Hmm)
Everything they make, going straight to the dealer

I wear rocks, b!tch, I feel like Jigga
A real b0mbshell getting turnt in the villa, ah (Yeah, yeah)
Smoother than Jergens, clean like detergent
B!tch, I ain’t fu*king, I’m working (I’m working)
If these n!ggas wasn’t telling my business, damn near thought I was perfect, hmm
He text me say 911, he need this pu*sy urgent
These b!tches ain’t built like me, they tryna find a surgeon, hmm (Ah)
B!tch, these n!ggas love this ass, I ain’t finna stop twerking, hmm, yeah
B!tch, I’m so in love with this money, I ain’t never finna stop working, hm
I’ve been balling for so long, I think I’m Kyrie Irving
I’m a tall drink of water, pu*sy like a shot of bourbon, ah, hmm

[Interlude]
You know, I’m sick of you motherfu*kers acting like I don’t be rapping my ass off, hmm
I know a booth hate to see one of you non-rapping ass b!tches coming, hahaha

[Verse 2]
I slang more chicken heads than Roscoes (Roscoes)
More blue in my thread than an iPhone, hmm
These hoes fake hard like a strap on (Hmm)
Hermès every color in the Pantone, yeah
I buck on that d!ck like I’m half horse (Ah)
Ass sitting up high like a minotaur, yeah
B!tch, need a pimp help, can’t spit a bar (Hmm)
Spit your best when you tryna get a n!gga off
But they be clapping for b!tches that do the bare minimum
Come to me, everybody get critical (Why?)
They be forcing they hating it’s pitiful (Hmm)
B!tches lame and I don’t wanna sit with ’em (Nope)
B!tches mouse and I don’t wanna click with ’em (Nope)
Coming for me like I’m putting d!ck in ’em (Ugh)
They compare you to me, you a synonym (Hmm)
I’m producing these b!tches like Timbaland
P-p-p-p-pop it back
Hear how that pu*sy smack (Ah)
Fu*king hoes that wanna be me (Wanna be me)
He want some copy cat (Copy cat)
Ooh, you thought you really made it (You made it)
I know these b!tches mad (B!tches mad)
All these lil’ hoes come and go (Hmm)
Like they be selling ass (Ah)
L-L-LV rainbow print, that’s vintage
I ain’t even ask how much, just spent it
Bought it in Japan, so a b!tch can’t get this (Yeah, yeah)
Lil’ ass bag, couldn’t make me a mistress (Make me a mistress)
All my accounts got all my interest
On my own mood board on Pinterest (On Pinterest)
Pimping out work, don’t need no assistance (Hey, hey)
Ain’t a b!tch pen out this vicious (Ah)

[Outro]
Hmm and if you sick of me, b!tch, you better stay on bed rest ’cause I’m finna fu*k up the rest of your year
Haha
Bye