Thin Ice Lyrics

I think you better quit talkin' that shit
It's all about the he-say, she-say bullshit
Yeah
What?

I'm back in that mode again
I'm outside fuckin' these hoes again (What?)
I'm viral as fuck, I bet you it's Tina whenever you scroll again, ayy
I post a pic of the ass, guess who's on my phone again? (What?)
He say I'm his baby, I told him, "Abort it"
Put me to the test, I got multiple choices
In my garage is multiple horses
On the wake up, I'm so fuckin' gorgeous
That ain't my ball, okay? (Okay?)
I splat and then pass it to y'all, okay? (Okay?)
We just be up in the mall, okay? (Okay?)
I kill her then let her respawn, okay? (Okay?)
Pink diamonds and nails, huh, bitch, I'm feelin' like Elle Woods
When I turn my bundles Frank White, I know this work gon' sell good (Good)
Nigga, I'm feelin' like Goldie, your ho overly goin'
Bitch, they call me Tina Montana, I come in the club, it's snowin'
Ayy, the pussy is water, okay?
He fuckin' me thinkin' that I'm finna make him a father, but, nigga, I'm smarter, okay? (Okay?)
You been a ho since the day that you came out your mama
In love with my body, okay? (Okay?)
The ho you fuck raw is a can, and I'm a Coke bottle
In love with my waist, okay?
I'd rather just ride on your face, okay? (Okay? Aw; What?)
Bitches be thinkin' they doin' they big one, nobody set was gagged
I'm shittin' on hoes in jeans and a T-shirt, Croc Himalayan bag
One foot on the gas, one foot in they ass
I'm gettin' some head, one heel on the dash
He put on the glove but don't ever last
I make the dick stiff like that bitch in a cast
I'm sick of these apps, sick of these men
You hatin' but look who you watchin' again
Whatever you say, I'm out your way
Nobody thinkin' 'bout you over here
I'm Black and I'm proud, the skin James Brown
The body is smokin', no Black & Mild
I need me a girlfriend like Toni Childs
We liftin' our T-shirts, goin' wild, yeah (Yeah)
I woke up sexy as fuck
The first thing I did was check my account
Last thing on my mind was a nigga
I'm in couture, you in the store
My body is ripped, you know I tore
I don't get even, I up the score
I show up and ball, my Gucci is gorgeous
My hair to the floor, I don't have no pores
A real rich bitch never touch a door
I got my waist on Amanda Lepore
I got my titties sittin' up in Dior
Finna go Rize, might eat your boy
All eyes on me, I feel like Shakur
If you love Tina, get ready for tour
I'm shakin' this ass all over the world, baow (What?)

One thing you hoes gon' stop doin', hm-hm
Is comparing yourself to a bitch like me (Yeah, brrt)
I think you better quit talkin' that shit
It's all about the he-say, she-say bullshit
Yeah, brrt