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bhad bhabie - hi bich (remix) lyrics

[intro]
oh my god, ronny

[chorus: bhad bhabie]
white j’s, white porsche
white wrist, white horse
hi, b-tch, hi, b-tch
hi, b-tch, hi, b-tch
i do not sniff it or roll it (no)
it do not drip when i pour it (no)
i do not run, i reload it
i do not save it, i throw it
white j’s, white porsche
white wrist, white horse
hi, b-tch, hi, b-tch
hi, b-tch, hi, b-tch

[verse 1: ybn nahmir]
lil’ n-gg-, got bands in my pocket
you lil’ n-gg-s broke, all that flexin’, just stop it
i cop me an audi, that top, i’ma drop it
i pick up your b-tch, now them panties keep droppin’
i’ll f-ck a n-gg-‘s b-tch on a sunday
one night, then i p-ss her back monday
lil’ n-gg- want smoke, then it’s gunplay
caught him in the field, left him on the runway
we packin’, you lackin’, you talkin’, so b-tch
yeah we finna get on that
that pistol be hot, it go in slow motion
that blower, you know it got blow back
i’m stickin’ you up, bro takin’ you down
since you flexin’ like you got that
we run through the back, get hit with this mac
we got guns like it’s baghdad

[verse 2: rich the kid & bhad bhabie]
ayy, ayy (hi, b-tch, b-tch)
she ain’t got facetime, i’ma skype it (what?)
get her head one time, tell her, “bye, b-tch” (b-tch)
drop an all white bentley on my right wrist
i might take her on the jet if i like it (woah)
side b-tch, kylie
if i d-ck her one time, what she gon’ buy me? (buy me)
come straight out the sky like i’m e.t
f-ck that, b-tch, my pinky ring 3d (ice)
young ceo, i could sign ya
quarter mil’ on my neck, i’ma blind ya (woah)
cut her off, she ain’t havin’ no purpose
b-tch bad, still buyin’ no purses (h-ll no)

[chorus: bhad bhabie]
white j’s, white porsche
white wrist, white horse
hi, b-tch, hi, b-tch
hi, b-tch, hi, b-tch

[verse 3: asian doll]
b-tches deceased
smokin’ on d-ck, she not better than me
pop out, lil’ birdie, you speak with a beak
send your location, then uber to me
b-tches been hangin’ diamonds on my face
kick her to the curb, she ain’t gang anyway
asian on the beat then the beat gets slayed
i took it offensive, so watch what you say
hi, b-tch, got a .30, don’t try it
ball out the mall, i’m like kobe, just buy sh-t
sick of these b-tches, they lie quick
clip shoot a movie, now talkers, directors, you dyin’
send her -ss on a hike
i don’t wanna kick it with her, b-tch for the hype
real pretty, beat her -ss in a street fight
know i’m flyer than these hoes like a pink kite, asian doll!

[interlude: bhad bhabie]
b-tch!
you mad, ho
why you so mad, ho?

[verse 4: bhad bhabie]
ho, don’t wanna try me
yeah, that’s on my mama’s chromosome
commas run on 10, since i run it up
never wanna line up, i don’t do mcdonald’s
f-ck crazy you know i’m breakin’ necks when i’m pullin’ up (skrrt)
all my numbers lookin’ outrageous
now the blogs handin’ out praises
got the world usin’ my phrases
hoes keep my name in their mouth
hope it tastes like sh-t when they say it (don’t say my name, b-tch)
barrin’ out, i ain’t got xans in me, no
young but i’m ballin’ like a d-mn ceo
bentley truck, said don’t give a f-ck
came from the street, boynton beach
yeah, they know what’s up
b-tches that hold no position
come at me, fall in my mentions
hoes be thirsty for attention
knock a ho out this dimension
then continue my ascension (why you so mad?)
how you hoes livin’ with no purpose?
i be pumpin’ venom in my verses
b-tch, you worthless
you ain’t f-ckin’ with my worst sh-t
doubted me, now it’s all comin’ together like cursive (like cursive, b-tch)
$50k a show, i’m doin’ 30 of ’em
5 million by the summer, keep the numbers runnin’
b-tches showin’ everything, i be understuntin’ (d-mn)
understandin’ your regard, really had nothin’ (sh-t)
sh-t, but now i’m breakin’ records and i’m makin’ history (wow)
how can they stop me? i swear it’s a mystery
parents so sick of me, source of their misery
(let your kids listen to me!)
ho, i do millions on a slow day
and i ain’t gotta go to school like a snow day
but my… in the stu’ so it’s okay
bank account look like a lick
broke ho, you look like you sick
slide on the beat like it’s slick
b-tch don’t compare me to iggy
that old ho is washed and i’m lit
wouldn’t pay her to wash up my whip
(bye, broke b-tch, bye, ho!)

- bhad bhabie lyrics

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