Uh
Call me Dracula 'cause all I do is count chips
Your money Minnie, I ain't talking 'bout the mouse, trick
These girls running like I just threw the bouquet
They know I'm headed to the top like a toupee
Now all the bums is wondering where I be's at
You ain't a Barbie, it's none of ya freaking bees wax
These little rappers I can see them in my dash cam
I know they're grouchy like Oscar by the trash can
I'm on stage, you can sit in the crowd
I be up in Lear jets, take a left at the cloud (haha)
I think she need the Heimlich, she's the chokin' kind
She gets no burn, no smoking sign (yeah)
Metaphor heaven, so they approve Nicki like my credit score's seven
Mac and cheese, six, fried chicken the guts
And I'm killing these bitches, Mike Vickin' it up
Chyeah
Nicki Minaj - The Cipher Lyrics
Nicki Minaj - The Cipher Lyrics
Official
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Uh
Call me Dracula 'cause all I do is count chips
Your money Minnie, I ain't talking 'bout the mouse, trick
These girls running like I just threw the bouquet
They know I'm headed to the top like a toupee
Now all the bums is wondering where I be's at
You ain't a Barbie, it's none of ya freaking bees wax
These little rappers I can see them in my dash cam
I know they're grouchy like Oscar by the trash can
I'm on stage, you can sit in the crowd
I be up in Lear jets, take a left at the cloud (haha)
I think she need the Heimlich, she's the chokin' kind
She gets no burn, no smoking sign (yeah)
Metaphor heaven, so they approve Nicki like my credit score's seven
Mac and cheese, six, fried chicken the guts
And I'm killing these bitches, Mike Vickin' it up
Chyeah
Call me Dracula 'cause all I do is count chips
Your money Minnie, I ain't talking 'bout the mouse, trick
These girls running like I just threw the bouquet
They know I'm headed to the top like a toupee
Now all the bums is wondering where I be's at
You ain't a Barbie, it's none of ya freaking bees wax
These little rappers I can see them in my dash cam
I know they're grouchy like Oscar by the trash can
I'm on stage, you can sit in the crowd
I be up in Lear jets, take a left at the cloud (haha)
I think she need the Heimlich, she's the chokin' kind
She gets no burn, no smoking sign (yeah)
Metaphor heaven, so they approve Nicki like my credit score's seven
Mac and cheese, six, fried chicken the guts
And I'm killing these bitches, Mike Vickin' it up
Chyeah
Writer: Onika Tanya Maraj
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group