Fuck The BS
(专辑: Barbie World - 2010)
[Birdman & Nicki Minaj:] Yeah Cut it up, gimme a
light Yeah, and by the
way, nigga It's Young Mula First Lady Ugh, yo, yo [Nicki Minaj:] Let us begin with a
bad lil' specimen Balenciagas, only things I
be stepping in Pucci bathing suits, only thing I'm dressing in 'Cause I
get wetter than a
navy seal veteran Got—Got 'em writing love letters in they jour-n-al Keep 'em on they toes like a
midget at the
urinal Bad—Bad—Bad-Bad—Bad—Bad as I
wanna be She ain't bad, she a
sad little wannabe [Birdman:] Yeah. Fuck the
bullshit. It's big money popping. Young Mula! Yeah, just like that. What up, young nigga? Let's go. Gudda, brrrat! [Gudda Gudda:] Okay, we running this shit, when we walk in the
building Got bitches from wall to wall, hoes hanging from the
ceiling Young Money we 'bout to kill 'em, I
promise I
make a
million And if they didn't have no hands I'll bet them bitches gon' feel 'em I'm talking money and power; you getting money? I
doubt it Fresher than baby powder, with your bitch in the
shower That pussy, I'ma devour; I
beat it up 'til it's sour No need for you to even trip; bitch I'll be done in a
hour, let's go [Birdman & Lil Wayne:] Yeah Yeah, that's more like it Junior! [Lil Wayne & Birdman:] They say the
blacker the
berry, the
redder the
cherry I
say the
sweeter it is—you dig? Buried Then the
bullshit varies, and it got me wary But I
know two are the
same—call it "murdered" and "married" (Believe that!) Hustling is so necessary, with no adversaries But ain't no love, like a
calendar with no Februaries I'ma need four secretary, and four Bloody Maries I'ma go eat me some pussy, and choke off the
cherry—I'm gone [Birdman:] Yeah, fully loaded with it To the
ceiling with it More money than you ever seen, nigga! Aight, Drizzy, Drake— [Drake & Birdman:] Look, kill the
game, no one recovers the
murder weapon Young angel, if you hate me tell me burn in heaven (Brrrrat!) How'd ya sleep on me? The
highest earning freshmen Like your third infection, I
hope you learned your lesson (Yeah) Yeah, I
spit raw, but I
prefer protection I
own a
heart and a
mind and a
shirt she slept in Bitch, I
got the
answer, and still ain't heard the
question I
shut your club down, please reserve my section Fuck a
confrontation, there ain't no cake in it And I'm caking, bitch, so tell me why I'd take a
break from it The
mother of your child always tell you I'm her favorite She call me her baby—not the
one she was in labor with She say, "Ooh, you taste good," I
say, "Ooh, just savor it" She know that she love a
nigga, I
be on that major shit 'Cause I
get paid to stand, and I
get paid to sit So I
don't walk around with money, baby girl—I'm made of it