El Cheque

[Verse 1: Nicki Minaj]
Yo, I never fucked Wayne, I never fucked Drake, on my life, man, fuck's sake!
If I did, I'd ménage with ‘em and let ‘em eat my ass like a cupcake.
My man full, he just ate, I don't duck nobody but tape,
Yeah, that was a setup for a punchline on duct tape.
Worried ‘bout if my butt's fake, worry ‘bout y'all, niggas, us straight.
These girls are my sons, Jon and Kate plus eight,
When I walk in, sit up straight, I don't give a fuck if I was late.
Dinner with my man on a G5 is my idea of an update,
Hut-hut one, hut-hut two, big titties, big butt too.
Fuck with them real niggas, who don't tell niggas what they up to,
Had to show bitches where the top is, ring finger where the rock is.
These hoes couldn't test me, even if their name was pop quiz,
Bad bitches who I fuck with, mad bitches, we don't fuck with.
I don't fuck with them chickens unless they last name is cutlet,
Let it soak in like seasonin',
And tell ‘em bitches blow me, Lance Stephenson.

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky,
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July,
Nothing but bad bitches in here tonight,
Oh, if you lame, and you know it be quiet!
Nothing but real niggas only, bad bitches only!
Rich niggas only, independent bitches only!
Boss niggas only, thick bitches only!
I got my real niggas here by my side only!

[Verse 2: Drake]
I never fucked Nicki, ‘cause she got a man, but when that's over, then I'm first in line.
And the other day in her Maybach, I thought, “Goddamn, this is the perfect time!”
We had just come from that video, you know LA traffic, how the city slow,
She was sittin' down on that big butt, but I was still starin' at the titties, though.
Yeah, low key, it may be high key,
I been peeped that you like me, you know,
Who the fuck you really wanna be with besides me?
I mean, it doesn't take much for us to do this shit quietly,
I mean, she say I'm obsessed with thick women, and I agree,
Yeah, that's right, I like my girls BBW, yeah!
Type to wanna suck you dry and then eat some lunch with you,
Yeah, so thick that everybody else in the room is so uncomfortable,
Ass on Houston, Texas, but the face look just like Clair Huxtable.
Oh, yeah, you the man in the city when the mayor fuck with you,
The NBA players fuck with you,
The bad ass bitches doin' makeup and hair fuck with you,
Oh, that's ‘cause I believe in something, I stand for it.
And, Nicki, if you ever tryna fuck,
Just give me the heads-up, so I can plan for it.
Pinkprint, aye!

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky,
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July,
Nothing but bad bitches in here tonight,
Oh, if you lame, and you know it be quiet!
Nothing but real niggas only, bad bitches only!
Rich niggas only, independent bitches only!
Boss niggas only, thick bitches only!
I got my real niggas here by my side only!

[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
I never fucked Nicki and that's fucked up, if I did fuck, she'd be fucked up,
Whoever is hittin', ain't hittin' it right, ‘cause she actin' like she need dick in her life,
That's another story, I'm no story teller, I piss greatness like gold is yellow,
All my goons so overzealous, I'm from Hollygrove, the holy Mecca.
Calendar say I got money for days,
I squirm and I shake but I'm stuck in my ways.
My girlfriend will beat a bitch up, if she wave,
They better not fuck with her surfboard, surfboard.
My eyes are so bright, I take cover for shade,
Don't have my money? I take mother's instead,
You got the hiccups, you swallowed the truth,
Then I make you burp, boy, treat beef like sirloin.
I'm talkin' ‘bout runnin' in houses with army guns,
So think about your son and daughter rooms.
Got two hoes with me, messed up, they got smaller guns,
Ain't thinkin' ‘bout your son and daughter rooms.
This shit is crazy, my nigga, I mean brazy, my nigga,
That money talk, I just rephrase it, my nigga,
Blood gang take the ‘B' out ‘behavior', my nigga.
For reals, if you mouth off, I blow your face off, I mean, pop-pop-pop, then I take off,
Now you see me, now you don't, like Jamie Foxx actin' like Ray Charles.
Sixteen in a clip, one in the chamber, 17th Ward bully with seventeen bullets.
My story is how I went from ‘poor me'
To ‘please, pour me a drink and celebrate with me!'

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky,
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July,
Nothing but bad bitches in here tonight,
Oh, if you lame, and you know it be quiet!
Nothing but real niggas only, bad bitches only!
Rich niggas only, independent bitches only!
Boss niggas only, thick bitches only!
I got my real niggas here by my side only!