Interpret:

Nicki Minaj

Album:

I Am Not a Human Being

Uh, life on the rocks, too hard to swallow
So we get high till it feel like the sky low
Y’all boys just a bunch of pussy cats, Milo
Money is the song, pockets on high note
Do-ra-me-fa-so, I rock like a fossil
Big boss shit, Paul Castellano
Shoot ya ass up, now crawl out the condo
That’s that nine nigga, ugh Rondo
Sleeping with the enemy so I fuck the world
To Miss Louise Anna, the sweetest southern girl
The sweetest southern girl (the sweetest southern girl)


Since the times up, put your signs up
They done picked my dude, out the line up
Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them
What the fuck wrong, wrong with them
You see many are called, very few are chosen
Looking at the walls, and I can feel ‘em closin’
Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them
What the fuck wrong, wrong with them


Uh, mind over matter, money over all
The world is on my shoulders
Should I dust my shoulders off?
Uzi rat-a-tatter, knocking over walls
Fuck the bullshit, but just don’t fuck it raw man
Pussy has a pattern and I know where I’m goin’
And if you got beef I turn into a tenderloin
Sanity kills so I live the crazy life
I wonder if they’ll pay attention if I change the price
Life is my wife, till death do us part
Man I’m fly as fuck, you ain’t even next to depart
Quick Draw McGraw, I hope you like art uh


Since the times up, put your signs up
They done picked my dude, out the line up
Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them
What the fuck wrong, wrong with them
You see many are called, very few are chosen
Looking at the walls, and I can feel ‘em closin’
Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them
What the fuck wrong, wrong with them


Uh, stepping on the bullshit, you can be my doormat
Y’all ain’t going nowhere with that hatin’ shit, four flat
Disrespectful on the beat, Borat
Fucked the system and the pussy wasn’t all that
Yeahh, now time’s gettin’ shorter
Red light on ya head like a fucking recorder now
Don’t you cross me, you do better crossing the border
So much money piled up I’m a motherfucking hoarder uhh


Since the times up, put your signs up
They done picked my dude, out the line up
Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them
What the fuck wrong, wrong with them
You see many are called, very few are chosen
Looking at the walls, and I can feel ‘em closin’
Baby what the fuck wrong, wrong with them
What the fuck wrong, wrong with them


Young Money