This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
could you be the baddest bitch up in the world
money aint a thing
whip cream with a swirl
baby you could ball or bounce
lip gloss, floss to your mouth
can i get the keys to your house
your skin color keep 'em in a daze
somethin like a maze
all bad bitches get paid
baby you can put me in your grand design
by lookin in my eyes with the dollar signs
becuase your face so bright like las vagas nights
feel mo down rap cat in yo life
and other bitches hate all the time
bitches tell lies
feet hurt cause they wear the wrong shoe size
but yours is a body like a cruise
how could you lose
go and get the money from the foo's
and everything back there is jelly
maybe those five star tellys
cats cant wait to spend bread
bitch go ahead
do it like simon says
if it dont hurt it aint done
arch your back out
ill pull a stack out that'll blow your back out
i like when your hair runs wild in the wind
you and your girlfriend act like twins
but could you be the baddest bitches on the planet
you got it goin on where you man cant stand it
well im not him
leave that cat
tell him you a hoe and you like it like that
you think i dont like ya
you got it all wrong
i get goosebumps when i see that you call
you know that ill ball like barkley charles
people like to stare when you walk through the halls
put some steel in your heels
chase the dollar bills
and give it to a playa thats real
because at least once a week she like to kiss another freak
fine ass bitches sometimes dont speak
but bitch dont run from the ism
the ism aint a track star leanin in a fat car
bitches know i charge
im not a matador so you know i dont pull
real bitches like to stay paid in full
man i dont do favors
this aint no caper
get my paper
another black cat fine boots
stuffed with loot
attract those men in the business suits
you know im gonna lace you with game
andre nicki is the name
dope bitch
could you be the baddest bitch that exist
always top five in every cats list
its never hit or miss
you my bitch
even santa clause gotta spend chips
its a cold winter
im cold when i go get her
she wear t-shirt and panties that dont fit her
and im gonna get a leathal rack
you best believe that
i holler bout scratch like a real rap cat
i get it off top
man like a door knock
i let my perm flow when my homies drop top
she latches like a garter belt
make a trick heart melt
first rate
irate
damn hes heart felt
yous a bad bitch you know i gotta say this
youd be somethin that i wanna run away with
but until then
tell your boyfriend
its cool cause im a bitch
im not your girlfriend
money aint a thing
whip cream with a swirl
baby you could ball or bounce
lip gloss, floss to your mouth
can i get the keys to your house
your skin color keep 'em in a daze
somethin like a maze
all bad bitches get paid
baby you can put me in your grand design
by lookin in my eyes with the dollar signs
becuase your face so bright like las vagas nights
feel mo down rap cat in yo life
and other bitches hate all the time
bitches tell lies
feet hurt cause they wear the wrong shoe size
but yours is a body like a cruise
how could you lose
go and get the money from the foo's
and everything back there is jelly
maybe those five star tellys
cats cant wait to spend bread
bitch go ahead
do it like simon says
if it dont hurt it aint done
arch your back out
ill pull a stack out that'll blow your back out
i like when your hair runs wild in the wind
you and your girlfriend act like twins
but could you be the baddest bitches on the planet
you got it goin on where you man cant stand it
well im not him
leave that cat
tell him you a hoe and you like it like that
you think i dont like ya
you got it all wrong
i get goosebumps when i see that you call
you know that ill ball like barkley charles
people like to stare when you walk through the halls
put some steel in your heels
chase the dollar bills
and give it to a playa thats real
because at least once a week she like to kiss another freak
fine ass bitches sometimes dont speak
but bitch dont run from the ism
the ism aint a track star leanin in a fat car
bitches know i charge
im not a matador so you know i dont pull
real bitches like to stay paid in full
man i dont do favors
this aint no caper
get my paper
another black cat fine boots
stuffed with loot
attract those men in the business suits
you know im gonna lace you with game
andre nicki is the name
dope bitch
could you be the baddest bitch that exist
always top five in every cats list
its never hit or miss
you my bitch
even santa clause gotta spend chips
its a cold winter
im cold when i go get her
she wear t-shirt and panties that dont fit her
and im gonna get a leathal rack
you best believe that
i holler bout scratch like a real rap cat
i get it off top
man like a door knock
i let my perm flow when my homies drop top
she latches like a garter belt
make a trick heart melt
first rate
irate
damn hes heart felt
yous a bad bitch you know i gotta say this
youd be somethin that i wanna run away with
but until then
tell your boyfriend
its cool cause im a bitch
im not your girlfriend
Lyrics submitted by hornbogen34
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