[Nicki Minaj:]
Yo, I never fucked Wayne, I never fucked Drake
On my life, man, fuck’s sake
If I did I’d menage 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 fake
Worry ’bout ya’ll 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 a update
Hut hut one, hut hut two, big titties, big butt too
Fuck with them real niggas who don’t tell niggas what they’re 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 their last name is cutlet
Let it soak in like seasoning
And tell them bitches, blow me, Lance Stephenson

[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

[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 God-damn, this is the perfect time
We had just come from that video
You know LA traffic, how the city slow
She was sitting down on that big butt
But I was still staring at the titties though
Yeah, low-key or maybe 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 Claire 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 doing makeup and hair fuck with you
Oh, that’s ’cause I believe in something, I stand for it
And Nicki if you ever try to fuck
Just give me the heads-up so I can plan for it
(Pinkprint, aye)

[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

[Lil’ Wayne:]
I never fucked Nic and that’s fucked up
If I did fuck she’d be fucked up
Whoever is hittin’ ain’t hittin’ it right
‘Cause she act like she need dick in her life
But that’s another story, I’m no story teller
I piss greatness like goldish 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 would beat a bitch up if she waved
They bet’ not fuck with her surfboard, surfboard
My eyes are so bright, I take cover for shade
Don’t have my money? Take mother’s instead
You got the hiccups, you swallow the truth
Then I make you burp, boy, treat beef like sirloin
I’m talkin’ ’bout running in houses with army guns
So think about your son and daughter rooms
Got two hoes with me, masked 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” off behavior, my nigga
For reals if you mouth off I blow your face off
I mean pop-pop-pop then I take off, nigga
Now you see me, nigga, now you don’t
Like Jamie Foxx acting like Ray Charles
16 in the clip, one in the chamber
17 ward bully with 17 bullets
My story is how I went from poor me
To please pour me a drink and celebrate with me

[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
Young Mula, baby!
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