Video Ya Bih de Yo Gotti 2024 Hip Hop Lyrics

Yo Gotti - Ya Bih Lyrics

Ya Bih Song Lyrics
Ya Bih by Yo Gotti (Tay Keith, f**k these niggas up)

I'm legend my life should be studied
I come from nothing, run up a thirty
f**ked on a superstar b**ch, and I butted
Christian Louboutin, yea I been blooded
I'm not a crip, but I got blues in my pocket
Too many blues won't fit in the wallet
Cristopher wallets (Wallets), everything B.I.G, we are the hundreds

Your b**ch outta pocket, I'm f**kin' her (f**kin' her)
Your b**ch a lil' baby I'm duckin' her (Duckin' her)
Your b**ch a lil' bad I am cuffin' 'em (Lockin' 'em)
I turn your lil' b**ch to a hustler (Whatever)
Your b**ch on a dope sh*t, she a customer (She gon')
I'm tired of your b**ch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f**ked in a Cullinan (Ooh-ooh)
Gotta umbrella her (Go)

We made it to water (Extorted)
Sixty minutes and I had her draws off (Woo)
How you let a b**ch make you fall off? (How?)
Ayy come get your b**ch 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
Sixty [?], she eat cornbread and pasta (Yeah)
Yeah my type of b**ch don't need nan' nigga (Damn)
She got a boutique and a cold figure (Damn)
You know she young, got an old nigga (Yep)
And she gon' keep a few hoes with 'em (Oh)
b**ches be salty so, swear they be subbin' me (Sub)
Niggas be thirsty b**ches won't f**k with 'em
She on a shift for real (For real)
Got her ass done but it looked real

Your b**ch outta pocket, I'm f**kin' her (f**kin' her)
Your b**ch a lil' baby I'm duckin' her (Duckin' her)
Your b**ch a lil' bad I am cuffin' 'em (Lockin' 'em)
I turn your lil' b**ch to a hustler (Money up)
Your b**ch on a dope sh*t, she a customer (She gon')
I'm tired of your b**ch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f**ked in a Cullinan (Ooh-ooh)
Gotta umbrella her (Go)

That ain't your b**ch, that's our b**ch (Mine too)
We just gon' keep it in your house (Then what?)
You spent a thousand in Ruth Chris (Tricked off)
I took that b**ch to a dope house (My hood)
You see the difference is plenty (So many)
Handle that emotion you know I'ma give it
And my eminent would a girl from my city
Soon as she get drunk we gon' fem on some flicky
I'm deep in my dog for roll me some truffles
Wherever I go it's a smoke out (Puff that)
My b**ch got a bubble, I beat it like she get in trouble
Get wet as a buss down
Told her stay out my business, go get you a business
She talk to a vendor on what's up
He mad as a b**ch let me find out
Had his head holdin' my hunnid come hideout
You the type little b**ch get you for everything
In n' out I only know how play mine
Them niggas corny she f**k with the bread guy
Shot my shot, would have switch I got dead aim (Bow)
Still wishin' they had me ex beauty b**ches
You can pay me to pay attention (Nope)
She fall in every rapper with a Richard Mille
Tryna f**k her way up get a meal ticket (Facts)

Your b**ch outta pocket, I'm f**kin' her (f**kin' her)
Your b**ch a lil' baby I'm duckin' her (Duckin' her)
Your b**ch a lil' bad I am cuffin' 'em (Lockin' 'em)
I turn your lil' b**ch to a hustler (Whatever)
Your b**ch on a dope sh*t, she a customer (She gon')
I'm tired of your b**ch, had enough of her (I'm tired)
She like cars, we f**ked in a Cullinan (Ooh-ooh)
Gotta umbrella her (Go)