Lyrics:. I wasn't born last night. I know these hoes ain't right. But you was blowing up her phone last night. But she ain't have her ringer nor her ring on last night, oh. Nigga, that's that nerve. Why give a bitch your heart. When she rather have a purse. |--| Why give a bitch your inch. When she rather have nine. |--| You know how the game goes. She be mine by half time, I'm the shit, oh. Nigga, that's that nerve. You all about her, and she all about hers. Birdman Junior in this bitch, no flamingos. And I done did everything but trust these hoes. (CB fuck with me!). When a rich nigga want you. And yournigga can't do nothing for ya. These hoes ain't loyal. These hoes ain't loyal. Yeah, yeah, let me see.