Musik

Lirik Lagu Imaginary Playerz - Cardi B: My Flop and Your Flop Is Not the Same, If You Did My Numbers

Senin, 25 Agustus 2025 11:35 WIB

Sumber Lain

- Transpose +

TRIBUN-VIDEO.COM - Lirik lagu Imaginary Playerz - Cardi B:

Yeah, it's the motherf*ckin' Brimcess, you heard?The shit these b*tches be braggin' about is likeShit I was doin' in like 2016, type shitLike (why these b*tches hatin'?)You b*tches don't even know the difference between vintage and archive, like(Why these b*tches hatin'?) Yeah, look

Now I spit that other shit, pretty motherf*cker shitCardi B, every song platinum, I'm not the other b*tchWhatever you was gon' pay her, you gotta double itGlory hole, b*tches don't know who they f*ckin' with

Their money my stocks and share moneyYour bookin' fee is my makeup and hair moneyb*tches say I think I'm the shit, and do (and do), and didJust know you b*tches can't live

I got the hottest shit, hop out, poppin' itThey say I walk around lookin' like a complimentShut up, stop whinin', Cardi still shinin'Hos kept complainin', so I copped more diamonds

And more archive, vintage couture on meI got more Gaultier than Jean probablySummer with cheeks out, Winter, it's minks outI buy grown man watches and make 'em take links out, b*tch

I meanIt's really easy for me to talk this shit, 'cause I live this shit (why these b*tches hatin'?)I just gotta make it rhyme

b*tches, I leave 'em all f*cked, fists be balled upY'all hos look cheap, that shit don't cost muchI'm a star, but I'll smack you, don't get star-struckPatientce lookin' at me like, "Cardi, what the f*ck?"

Striped like Thom Browne, these b*tches should calm downQuicker they lift up, the quicker they fall downPoor thing, Twitter must be gassin' them heavyMakin' them jump in the ring with the Brim before they ready

I seen whole fan pages make avatar changesAll that old love go to new fan basesNow your 15 up, you already outta timeI'm a legend, they gon' hang my heels from the power lines, haha

All I'm sayin' isGod forbid some shit happened to the BrimPut my motherf*ckin' heels in Nelson Ave (why these b*tches hatin'?)Bronx legend, you heard?

My flop and your flop is not the sameIf you did my numbers, y'all would pop champagneIf I did your numbers, I would hop out a planeSuicide, if I fall from the distance 'tween you and I

They gotta be kiddin'Whatever they smokin' on, it gotta be hittin'The bag you just posted been in the closet sittin'The car he just got you bow-tied in a ribbon

Been in my driveway, not gettin' drivenY'all some bench b*tches (hatin'), haha, ho, y'all just started startin'Birthday at Carbone, to me, that's Olive GardenA nigga couldn't take me there, that's y'all department

Tasteless, huh, basicI'm a Waldorf penthouse every state, b*tch2016, I had Fashion Nova lit, huhAsk Rich, y'all need your ass whipped

What the f*ck you mean this b*tch is out-dressin' me? (Why these b*tches hatin'?)How that b*tch outdressin' me with my f*ckin' vibe, b*tch? (Why these b*tches hatin'?)Huh, I dressed that b*tch, haha

Fixin' y'all mouth to talk fashion with meI'm the one who showed these girls what fashion could beThe first rap b*tch on the cover of VogueBut somehow y'all passed me, I suppose?

I know your type, all bold and all cap'Fore the love of hip-hop, y'all knew me before thatThese b*tches is nuts, b*tches is ball sacksAnd behind my back, b*tches be tight like bra straps, ay (hatin')

(*)

Editor: Unzila AlifitriNabila
Sumber: Sumber Lain