Watch, mhm, Glock,
mhm, cocked,
mhm, got it, mhm
You need that
I got it, this cash,
my pockets
The Cat one hundred,
you need that
I got it
Need it, got it,
cash, pockets
Bands on me,
sticks on me
You need that
I got it, this cash,
my pockets
The 'Cat one hundred,
you need that
Yeah, she like how
I throw them racks,
yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin'
that cash, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin'
that ass, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the
back, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
I know you don't
like me, you
wanna fight me
You don't want no
problems at your party,
don't invite me
I don't worry 'bout
you niggas, please
stop talking 'bout me
Always talking 'bout
me 'cause you
looking for the clouty
6ix-nina,
the 9ine-nina
Riding in a two-seater
with two ninas
Baby got that
Aquafina, it's cocaina
Smoking on that
OG reefer, no TMZ-a
Forgiatos on a Benz
truck, make her
friends fuck
Told her she could
get Chanel if she
let my friends fuck
Stars shining in the
Rolls Royce, it
got red guts
Wait, hold up, nah, I
still don't give a fuck
Vroom, G5, vroom,
we high
You the type of nigga
that I never
wanna be like
You a type of bitch that
will never get a reply
Hi, hater, bye,
hater, vroom
Yeah, she like how I
throw them racks,
yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin'
that cash, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin'
that ass, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the
back, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Dollar, dollar bill,
come get her
Even your man know
Nickis do it better
I know you don't like
me, you wanna fight me
Always on my page,
never double-tap
like me
Baddies to my
left and my right
Never chase a corny
nigga, put that
on my life
Just put it in his face,
all this cake,
he wanted a taste
We sippin' on that Ace,
itty-bitty waist,
pretty face
Yeah, eat it,
Cookie Monster
He a slave to this pussy,
call me master
Real wet, I said,
Slurp it like it's pasta
They get nervous when
it's Nicki on the roster
Somebody usher this
nigga into a clinic
My flow's still sick, I
ain't talkin' a pandemic
I write my own lyrics,
a lot of these
bitches gimmicks
They study Nicki style,
now all of them
wan' mimic
Talkin' 'bout snitches
when it's snitches
in your camp
Never stand alone, you
always itchin'
for a stamp
Me, I'm still money,
wrists light up
like a lamp
They gon' have to
send they best
fighter for the champ
Racks, I got 'em,
Mary, I'm poppin'
They keep hatin',
but still watchin'
Check the boards,
I'm still toppin'
Bustdown or plain jane,
I got options
It's a bunch of mini-mes
I'm the one they mockin
Showed you how to
get a bag, now you
goin' shoppin'
When I come out,
all the sneak bitches
start plottin'
When I come out,
it's a sweep,
bitches start moppin'
Yeah, she like how I
throw them racks, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin'
that cash, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin'
that ass, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the
back, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Watch, mhm, Glock,
mhm, cocked, mhm,
got it, mhm
If he like, I throw it fast,
real fast, fast, fast
He singin' my old song,
yellin', Ass, ass, ass
They be speedin',
tryna beat me, then
they crash, crash, crash
Still a hundred like
the number on my
dash, dash, dash
That real ass ain't keep
your nigga home