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Yo Gotti - Ya Bih Lyrics



Yo Gotti - Ya Bih Lyrics
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(Tay Keith, f*ck these niggas up)

I'm legend, my life should be studied
I come from nothing, ran up a thirty
F*cked on a superstar bitch and her buddy
Christian Louboutins, yeah, I be blooded
I'm not a Crip, but I got blues in my pocket
Too many blues, won't fit in the wallet
Christopher Wallace (Wallace), everything B.I.G, we are the hottest

Your bitch outta pocket, I'm f*ckin' her (f*ckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' beggar, I'm duckin' her (duckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' baddie, I'm cuffin' her (I'm lockin' her)
I turn your lil' bitch to a hustler (money up)
Your bitch on that dope, she a customer (she gon')
I'm tired of your bitch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f*cked in a Cullinan (uh-uh)
Got the umbrella up

We made it to Waldorf (Astoria)
Sixty minutes and I had her drawers off (woo)
How you let a bitch make you fall off? (How?)
Ayy, come get your bitch out my call log (please)
A hundred miss calls, I block her (hello)
Oh yeah, she determined, can't stop her (damn)
She blew a bag at the doctor
Thick-thick, like she eat cornbread and pasta (yeah)
Yeah, my type of bitch don't need nan' nigga (nan')
She got a boutique and a cold figure (damn)
You know she young, got a old nigga (yup)
And she gon' keep a few hoes with her (yup)
Bitches be salty so they be subbin' me (sub)
Niggas be thirsty, bitches won't f*ck with her
She on her shit for real (for real)
Got her ass done but it look real

Your bitch outta pocket, I'm f*ckin' her (f*ckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' beggar, I'm duckin' her (duckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' baddie, I'm cuffin' her (I'm lockin' her)
I turn your lil' bitch to a hustler (money up)
Your bitch on that dope, she a customer (she gon')
I'm tired of your bitch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f*cked in a Cullinan (uh-uh)
Got the umbrella up (go)

That ain't your bitch, that's our bitch (mine too)
We just gon' keep her at your house (then what?)
You spent a thousand at Ruth's Chris (tricked off)
I took that bitch to a dope house (my hood)
Do you see the difference? Its plenty (so many)
Hand out emoji, you know I'ma give it
Am I aimin' out with a girl from my city
Soon as she get drunk, we gon' film on some flicky
I'm deep in my duffle, roll up me some truffles
Wherever I go it's a smoke out (puff that)
My bitch got a bubble, I beat it like she got in trouble
Get wet as a buss down (wet)
Told her stay out my business, go get you a business
She talk to a vendor on WhatsApp (in China)
He mad as a bitch, let me find out
Had his ho in my hood, come hide out
You the type let a bitch get you for everything
Even not on me, I know how to play it, man
Them niggas corny, she f*ck with the bread gang
Shot my shot with a switch, I got dead aim (bow)
Still wishin' they had me ex beauty bitches
You couldn't pay me to pay 'em attention (nope)
She follow every rapper with a Richard Mille
Tryna f*ck her way up, get a meal ticket (facts)

Your bitch outta pocket, I'm f*ckin' her (f*ckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' beggar, I'm duckin' her (duckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' baddie, I'm cuffin' her (I'm lockin' her)
I turn your lil' bitch to a hustler (money up)
Your bitch on that dope, she a customer (she gon')
I'm tired of your bitch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f*cked in a Cullinan (uh-uh)
Got the umbrella up (go)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(Tay Keith, f*ck these niggas up)

I'm legend, my life should be studied
I come from nothing, ran up a thirty
F*cked on a superstar bitch and her buddy
Christian Louboutins, yeah, I be blooded
I'm not a Crip, but I got blues in my pocket
Too many blues, won't fit in the wallet
Christopher Wallace (Wallace), everything B.I.G, we are the hottest

Your bitch outta pocket, I'm f*ckin' her (f*ckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' beggar, I'm duckin' her (duckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' baddie, I'm cuffin' her (I'm lockin' her)
I turn your lil' bitch to a hustler (money up)
Your bitch on that dope, she a customer (she gon')
I'm tired of your bitch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f*cked in a Cullinan (uh-uh)
Got the umbrella up

We made it to Waldorf (Astoria)
Sixty minutes and I had her drawers off (woo)
How you let a bitch make you fall off? (How?)
Ayy, come get your bitch out my call log (please)
A hundred miss calls, I block her (hello)
Oh yeah, she determined, can't stop her (damn)
She blew a bag at the doctor
Thick-thick, like she eat cornbread and pasta (yeah)
Yeah, my type of bitch don't need nan' nigga (nan')
She got a boutique and a cold figure (damn)
You know she young, got a old nigga (yup)
And she gon' keep a few hoes with her (yup)
Bitches be salty so they be subbin' me (sub)
Niggas be thirsty, bitches won't f*ck with her
She on her shit for real (for real)
Got her ass done but it look real

Your bitch outta pocket, I'm f*ckin' her (f*ckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' beggar, I'm duckin' her (duckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' baddie, I'm cuffin' her (I'm lockin' her)
I turn your lil' bitch to a hustler (money up)
Your bitch on that dope, she a customer (she gon')
I'm tired of your bitch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f*cked in a Cullinan (uh-uh)
Got the umbrella up (go)

That ain't your bitch, that's our bitch (mine too)
We just gon' keep her at your house (then what?)
You spent a thousand at Ruth's Chris (tricked off)
I took that bitch to a dope house (my hood)
Do you see the difference? Its plenty (so many)
Hand out emoji, you know I'ma give it
Am I aimin' out with a girl from my city
Soon as she get drunk, we gon' film on some flicky
I'm deep in my duffle, roll up me some truffles
Wherever I go it's a smoke out (puff that)
My bitch got a bubble, I beat it like she got in trouble
Get wet as a buss down (wet)
Told her stay out my business, go get you a business
She talk to a vendor on WhatsApp (in China)
He mad as a bitch, let me find out
Had his ho in my hood, come hide out
You the type let a bitch get you for everything
Even not on me, I know how to play it, man
Them niggas corny, she f*ck with the bread gang
Shot my shot with a switch, I got dead aim (bow)
Still wishin' they had me ex beauty bitches
You couldn't pay me to pay 'em attention (nope)
She follow every rapper with a Richard Mille
Tryna f*ck her way up, get a meal ticket (facts)

Your bitch outta pocket, I'm f*ckin' her (f*ckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' beggar, I'm duckin' her (duckin' her)
Your bitch a lil' baddie, I'm cuffin' her (I'm lockin' her)
I turn your lil' bitch to a hustler (money up)
Your bitch on that dope, she a customer (she gon')
I'm tired of your bitch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f*cked in a Cullinan (uh-uh)
Got the umbrella up (go)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Mario Mims, Demario White Jr., Brytavious Chambers
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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