(Intro) (Phone ringing…) Hello? Yeah, I’m looking for a bad bitch with a bad attitude, Cute face, thick thighs, and a little bit rude. I ain’t looking for a wedding ring, I want a partner in crime and a diamond-studded chain! (Ad-lib: “WHAT?!”) You have reached the voicemail box of— (BEEP!) Damn, she blocked me. HAHA! Run that beat! (Verse 1) Hoe, bitch, you already know, When the bass drops low, watch the whole club go! Cute little face with a dangerous grin, Walk through the door like the trouble walked in. I need a bad one, bougie with style, Thick thighs, cute bite, dangerous smile. Hair done right, nails sharp as a knife, Talks so much shit, make me question my life! (Ad-lib: “SHE CRAZY!”) I don’t need a wife, I ain’t buying no ring, No honeymoon flights, no wedding bells sing. Keep it real, keep it fun, let the night go wild, Give me that ride-or-die, bad-girl style! She got expensive taste and a criminal mind, Steals all my fries, then says, “You’re fine!” Takes my hoodie, my wallet, my keys, Then asks why I’m sweating in ninety-degree heat! (Ad-lib: “GIVE ME MY HOODIE BACK!”) (Pre-Chorus) I need a cute bitch with a little bit of crazy, Talks that shit, never acting all lazy. No fake love, no playing pretend, Just two bad decisions and a night that won’t end! (Beat cuts.) You riding with me? (Female voice: “Depends. You got money?”) Damn! (Chorus) I need a hoe, bitch, you already know, Bad little attitude, running the show! Cute face, thick thighs, got the whole club shook, One little wink got me losing my cool! I need a bad bitch, bougie and dangerous, Ride-or-die energy, nobody changing us! Not looking for love, ain’t looking to commit, Just a cute little menace with a mouth full of shit! (Ad-libs: “YEAH!” “SHE BAD!” “OH, LORD!”) Bad bitch! Bad decisions! Whole damn night with no supervision! Bad bitch! Bad intentions! My bank account needs divine intervention! (Verse 2) She said, “Let’s go out,” I said, “Where we going?” She said, “Somewhere expensive.” My bank account started slowing. Pulled up in the club with her shades on tight, Ordered six cocktails like she owned the whole night. She wants designer bags, I want dollar-store snacks, She got five new outfits and a thousand-pound tax! She says she’s independent, doesn’t need a man, Then she calls me to open up a pickle jar can! (Jar lid pops — PLOP!) I’m looking for a freak with a mischievous grin, A little bit of trouble, let the chaos begin. She roasts my haircut, says my shoes look cheap, Then steals my whole blanket while I’m trying to sleep! (Ad-lib: “THIS IS MY BED!”) She ain’t a princess, she don’t need saving, She’s got her own money and her own bad cravings. We talk our shit, laugh until we cry, Two grown-ass fools with the world passing by! No fake romance, no promises to keep, Just late-night food runs and no damn sleep. If the vibe ain’t right, then we both move on, But if the beat goes hard, we’re still dancing till dawn! (Pre-Chorus) I need a cute bitch with a little bit of crazy, Talks that shit, never acting all lazy. No fake love, no playing pretend, Just two bad decisions and a night that won’t end! (Beat cuts.) You riding with me? (Female voice: “Yeah, but you’re paying.”) I KNEW IT! (Chorus) I need a hoe, bitch, you already know, Bad little attitude, running the show! Cute face, thick thighs, got the whole club shook, One little wink got me losing my cool! I need a bad bitch, bougie and dangerous, Ride-or-die energy, nobody changing us! Not looking for love, ain’t looking to commit, Just a cute little menace with a mouth full of shit! (Ad-libs: “YEAH!” “SHE BAD!” “OH, LORD!”) Bad bitch! Bad decisions! Whole damn night with no supervision! Bad bitch! Bad intentions! My bank account needs divine intervention! (Bridge) (Beat slows. Deep 808 heartbeat.) Look, I don’t need a soulmate, I need somebody who can match my energy. Somebody who can talk shit, laugh hard, And steal my fries without declaring war on me! (Female voice: “I ate your leftovers.”) YOU ATE WHAT?! (Beat drops out.) My food?! My last damn plate?! (Dramatic violin.) That’s it. We’re getting a divorce. (Female voice: “We aren’t married!”) THEN GIVE ME MY HOODIE BACK! (Laughter, record scratch, bass builds.) (Outro) Bad bitch, bad choices, Bass too loud, can’t hear our voices! Cute face, thick thighs, attitude mean, Worst damn financial decision I’ve ever seen! (Phone ringing…) You have reached the voicemail box of— (BEEP!) Hey, baby, it’s me. You still got my hoodie? (Female voice: “Sold it.”) YOU SOLD MY WHAT?! (Phone disconnects.) (Deep bass drop — BOOOOM!) BAD BITCH. BAD DECISIONS. (Ad-lib: “I’m never dating again!”) (Phone notification: “She liked your photo.”) …I’m calling her back. END.
