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Lyrics Nicki Minaj - Barbie Dangerous | Lyrics
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(Tony ain't shit)
Ayo
Barbie dangerous
Weak bitches don't endanger us
You are over, you ain't in range of us
'Cause I won, won, won, won angel numbers
Fashions and Burberry rain boots
Lookin' like every designer fav muse
Front row, next to the who's who's
Tryna build another Barbie doll, screw's loose
Name a rapper that can channel Big Poppa and push out Papa Bear, whole mother of the year
Every summer I come out to walk, bitches, make 'em disappear, but to me it's just another year
She ain't got that kind of flare, let me see what I'ma wear, they gon' copy, I'ma wear Moncler
Heavy on the arch (Facts), he was hittin' from the back
Then he asks was all this my hair, um, yeah
Spit-spit-spit your game, pop your shit, face on pretty, ass stay thick
Beef with who? She got the right one
All these rap bitches, ain't got to like none
Kitty on fleek, I got the tight one
Pick one ticket, I got the white one
These rap bitches you like is my sons
Stick 'em on this rap shit when I'm done
I'm still sittin' here, you got a lot to prove
Appreciatin' my solitude
Beef ain't my go-to but I got bags and this bread if we buyin' food
And I'm still queenin', Chanel bags
They still swingin', old hits
They still swingin', they like the flow, they still streamin'
But it's kill season, you apologize, but it's still treason
Got 'em steamin' like dry cleanin'
Move on my timin', I ain't no demon
Hoes' words ain't got no meanin'
Queen of this rap shit, it's Bohemian
Their worst nightmare, they still dreamin'
Bitches Jack and I'm still queenin'
And I'm still prayin'
You would too if you knew how these jealous bitches move
First twenty-two by twenty-two
They don't know the half 'til they cracked in two
So called beef with who, wait, who?
Broke a couple rap niggas hearts in two
Now that my jack pun interviews (Interviews, interviews)
It's clear to see they wanna be me
Hit the road, E-X-I-T
My flow, they B-I-T
Shots thrown, but I-D-C
Go home or do it B-I-G
My throne, they can't S-I-T
My crown, you can't F-I-T
I'ma tell you like a nigga told me
Spit-spit-spit your game, pop your shit, face on pretty, ass stay thick
Beef with who? She got the right one
All these rap bitches they ain't got to like none
Kitty on fleek, I got the tight one
Pick one ticket, I got the white one
These rap bitches you like is my sons
Stick 'em on this rap shit when I'm done
Ayo
Barbie dangerous
Weak bitches don't endanger us
You are over, you ain't in range of us
'Cause I won, won, won, won angel numbers
Fashions and Burberry rain boots
Lookin' like every designer fav muse
Front row, next to the who's who's
Tryna build another Barbie doll, screw's loose
Name a rapper that can channel Big Poppa and push out Papa Bear, whole mother of the year
Every summer I come out to walk, bitches, make 'em disappear, but to me it's just another year
She ain't got that kind of flare, let me see what I'ma wear, they gon' copy, I'ma wear Moncler
Heavy on the arch (Facts), he was hittin' from the back
Then he asks was all this my hair, um, yeah
Spit-spit-spit your game, pop your shit, face on pretty, ass stay thick
Beef with who? She got the right one
All these rap bitches, ain't got to like none
Kitty on fleek, I got the tight one
Pick one ticket, I got the white one
These rap bitches you like is my sons
Stick 'em on this rap shit when I'm done
I'm still sittin' here, you got a lot to prove
Appreciatin' my solitude
Beef ain't my go-to but I got bags and this bread if we buyin' food
And I'm still queenin', Chanel bags
They still swingin', old hits
They still swingin', they like the flow, they still streamin'
But it's kill season, you apologize, but it's still treason
Got 'em steamin' like dry cleanin'
Move on my timin', I ain't no demon
Hoes' words ain't got no meanin'
Queen of this rap shit, it's Bohemian
Their worst nightmare, they still dreamin'
Bitches Jack and I'm still queenin'
And I'm still prayin'
You would too if you knew how these jealous bitches move
First twenty-two by twenty-two
They don't know the half 'til they cracked in two
So called beef with who, wait, who?
Broke a couple rap niggas hearts in two
Now that my jack pun interviews (Interviews, interviews)
It's clear to see they wanna be me
Hit the road, E-X-I-T
My flow, they B-I-T
Shots thrown, but I-D-C
Go home or do it B-I-G
My throne, they can't S-I-T
My crown, you can't F-I-T
I'ma tell you like a nigga told me
Spit-spit-spit your game, pop your shit, face on pretty, ass stay thick
Beef with who? She got the right one
All these rap bitches they ain't got to like none
Kitty on fleek, I got the tight one
Pick one ticket, I got the white one
These rap bitches you like is my sons
Stick 'em on this rap shit when I'm done
Lyrics
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