Imaginary Playerz lyrics - Cardi B

Yeah

It's the mtherfcking Brimcess, you heard?

The shit these btches be braggin' about is like

Shit I was doin' in like 2016 type shit

Like (Why these bitches hating?)

You btches don't even know the difference between vintage and archive, like (Why these btches hating?)

Yeah, look

Now I spit that other shit, pretty mtherfucker sht

Cardi B, every song platinum, I'm not the other btch

Whatever you was gon' pay her, you gotta double it

Glory hole, btches don't know who they fckin' with

Their money my stocks and share money

Your booking fee is my makeup and hair money

Btches say I think I'm the shit and do (And do) (And did)

Just know you btches can't live

I got the hottest sht, 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, bitch

(Why these btches hating?) I mean

It's really easy for me to talk this sht 'cause I live this shit

(Why these btches hating?) I just gotta make it rhyme

Btches, I leave 'em all fcked, fists be balled up

Y'all hoes look cheap, that sht 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 fck?"

Striped like Thom Browne, these btches 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 btches hating?) All I'm saying is

God forbid some shit happened to the Brim

Put my mtherfcking heels in Nelson Ave (Why these bitches 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 btches

Ho, y'all just started starting

Birthday at Carbone, to me, that's Olive Garden

A nigga couldn't take me there, that's y'all department

Tasteless, basic

I'm a Waldorf penthouse every state btch

2016, I had Fashion Nova lit

Ask Rich, y'all need your ass whipped

What the fck you mean this btch is outdressing me? (Why these btches hating?)

How that btch outdressing me with my fcking vibe, btch? Duh (Why these btches hating?)

I dressed that btch

Fixin' y'all mouth to talk fashion with me

I'm the one who showed these girls what fashion could be

The first rap bitch 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 btches is nuts, bitches is ball sacks

And behind my back, btches be tight like bra straps, aye