Yeah It's the motherf**king Brimcess, you heard? The s**t these b**ches be braggin' about is like S**t I was doin' in like 2016 type s**t Like (Why these b**ches hating?) You b**ches don't even know the difference between vintage and archive, like (Why these b**ches hating?) Yeah, look Now I spit that other s**t, pretty motherf**ker s**t Cardi B, every song platinum, I'm not the other b**ch Whatever you was gon' pay her, you gotta double it Glory hole, b**ches don't know who they f**kin' with Their money my stocks and share money Your booking fee is my make-up and hair money B**ches say I think I'm the s**t and do (And do) (And did) Just know you b**ches can't live I got the hottest s**t, hop out, poppin' it They say I walk around looking like a compliment Shut up, stop whining, Cardi still shining Hoes kept complaining so I copped more diamonds And more archive, vintage couture on me I got more Gaultier than Jean probably Summer with cheeks out, winter, it's minks out I buy grown men watches and make them take links out, b**ch (Why these b**ches hating?) I mean It's really easy for me to talk this s**t 'cause I live this s**t (Why these bitches hating?) I just gotta make it rhyme B**ches, I leave 'em all f**ked, fists be balled up Y'all hoes look cheap, that shit don't cost much I'm a star, but I'll smack you, don't get starstruck Patientce lookin' at me like "Cardi, what the f**k?" Striped like Thom Browne, these b**ches should calm down Quicker they lift up, the quicker they fall down Poor thing, Twitter must be gassin' them heavy Making them jump in the rim with the Brim before they ready I seen whole fan pages make avatar changes All that old love go to new fan bases Now your fifteen up, you already outta time I'm a legend, they gon' hang my heels from the power lines (Why these b**ches hating?) All I'm saying is God forbid some shit happened to the Brim Put my motherf**king heels in Nelson Ave (Why these b**ches hating?) Bronx legend, you heard? My flop and your flop is not the same If you did my numbers, y'all would pop Champagne If I did your numbers, I would hop out a plane Suicide if I fall from the distance of you and I They gotta be kidding Whatever they smoking on, it gotta be hitting The bag you just posted been in the closet sitting The car he just got you, bow tie and a ribbon? Been in my driveway not getting driven Y'all some bench b**ches Ho, y'all just started starting Birthday at Carbone, to me, that's Olive Garden A n**ga couldn't take me there, that's y'all department Tasteless, basic I'm a Waldorf penthouse every state b**ch 2016, I had Fashion Nova lit Ask Rich, y'all need your ass whipped What the f**k you mean this bitch is outdressing me? (Why these b**ches hating?) How that b**ch outdressing me with my f**king vibe, b**ch? Duh (Why these b**ches hating?) I dressed that b**ch Fixin' y'all mouth to talk fashion with me I'm the one who showed these girls what fashion could be The first rap b**ch on the cover of Vogue But somehow y'all passed me I suppose I know your type, all bold and all cap For the Love Of Hip Hop, y'all knew me before that These b**ches is nuts, b**ches is ball sacks And behind my back, b**ches be tight like bra straps, aye