| Yeah, I say
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| B*tch bad, woman good, lady better
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| Hey, hey
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| Hey, hey
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| Now imagine there’s a shorty, maybe five maybe four
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| Ridin' 'round with his mama listening to the radio
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| And a song comes on and a nut far off from being born
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| Doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong
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| Now I ain’t trying to make it too complex
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| But let’s just say shorty has an undeveloped context
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| About the perception of women these days
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| His mama sings along and this what she says
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| «N*ggas I’m a bad b*tch, and I’m that b*tch
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| Something that’s far above average»
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| And maybe other rhyming words like cabbage and savage
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| And baby carriage and other things that match it Couple of things are happenin' here
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| First he’s relatin' the word «b*tch"with his mama — comma
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| And because she’s relatin' to herself, his most important source of help
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| And mental health, he may skew respect for dishonor
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| B*tch bad, woman good
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| Lady better, they misunderstood
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| (I'm killin' these b*tches)
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| Uh, tell 'em
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| B*tch bad, woman good
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| Lady better, they misunderstood
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| They misunderstood
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| Yeah, now imagine a group of little girls nine through twelve
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| On the internet watchin' videos listenin' to songs by themselves
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| It doesn’t really matter if they have parental clearance
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| They understand the internet better than their parents
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| Now being the internet, the content’s probably uncensored
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| They’re young, so they’re malleable and probably unmentored
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| A complicated combination, maybe with no relevance
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| Until that intelligence meets their favorite singer’s preference
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| «Bad b*tches, bad b*tches, bad b*tches
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| That’s all I want and all I like in life is bad b*tches, bad b*tches»
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| Now let’s say that they less concerned with him
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| And more with the video girl acquiescent to his whims
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| Ah, the plot thickens
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| High heels, long hair, fat booty, slim
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| Reality check, I’m not trippin'
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| They don’t see a paid actress, just what makes a bad b*tch
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| Disclaimer: this rhymer, Lupe, is not usin' «b*tch"as a lesson
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| But as a psychological weapon
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| To set in your mind and really mess with your conceptions
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| Discretions, reflections, it’s clever misdirection
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| Cause, while I was rappin' they was growin' up fast
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| Nobody stepped in to ever slow 'em up, gasp
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| Sure enough, in this little world
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| The little boy meets one of those little girls
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| And he thinks she a bad b*tch and she thinks she a bad b*tch
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| He thinks this respectfully, she thinks of that sexually
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| She got the wrong idea, he don’t wanna f*ck her
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| He think she’s bad at bein' a b*tch, like his mother
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| Momma never dressed like that, come out the house hot mess like that
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| Ass, titties, breasts like that, all out to impress like that
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| Just like that, you see the fruit of the confusion
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| He caught in a reality, she caught in an illusion
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| Bad mean good to her, she really nice and smart
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| But bad mean bad to him, b*tch don’t play your part
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| But b*tch still bad to her if you say it the wrong way
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| But she think she a b*tch, what a double entendre
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| B*tch bad, woman good, lady better
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| They misunderstood
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| You’re misunderstood (I'm killin' these b*tches)
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| B*tch bad, woman good, lady better
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| Greatest mother hoood (I'm killin' these b*tches) |