Party Bitch Ayesha Erotica

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[Verse 1]
I wouldn't touch your rusty rhymes with the holes in my nose
I couldn’t see you dusty tryhards through the holes in your clothes
Coked up every night, bloody noses and fights
My pussy is so fucking sore from the dick after shows
I shop exclusively so I never show up in your shit
And baby, when I say shit, I mean fucking shit
While all you lame fucking stylist bitches keep up with the times
I'm in London f-f-fucked up, tryna keep up with the lines

[Chorus]
I'm a music-making, drug-taking, Gucci-rocking (Party bitch!)
Socialite, heiress, model, actress, singer (Party bitch!)
Slut, skank, smoking crank, fashion-loving (Party bitch!)
Cock-sucking, fist-fucking, tight pussy (Party bitch!)

[Verse 2]
I rock like Madonna at your favorite events
I’m fucking all of your friends, you're fucking up all the trends
Okay, you moved to New York and now you think that you're art
All your fans are your friends, we don't know who you are!
But Ayesha is the problem solver, glamour's what I sell
I'm a walking fucking sin on my way to fucking Hell
You ain't no shock rock god, you ain't no post-goth mod
I’m smoking crack in the back of your stepdad’s hot rod