Imaginary Playerz Lyrics – Cardi B

[Intro]
Yeah
It’s the motherfu*king Brimcess, you heard?
The s*it these b!tches be bragging about is like
S*it I was doing in like 2016, type s*it
Like (Why these b!tches hating?)
You b!tches don’t even know the difference between vintage and archive, like
(Why these b!tches hating?)
Yeah, look

[Verse 1]
Now I spit that other s*it, pretty motherfu*ker s*it

Cardi B, every song platinum, I’m not the other b!tch
Whatever you was gon’ pay her, you gotta double it
Gloryhole, b!tches don’t know who they fu*king with
Their money my stocks and share money
Your booking fee is my makeup and hair money
B!tches say I think I’m the s*it and do (And do) and did
Just know you b!tches can’t live
I got the hottest s*it, hop out, popping 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 man watches and make ’em take links out, b!tch

[Interlude]
(Why these b!tches hating?) I mean
It’s really easy for me to talk this s*it, ’cause I live this s*it (Why these b!tches hating?)
I just gotta make it rhyme

[Verse 2]
B!tches, I leave ’em all fu*ked, fists be balled up
Y’all hoes look cheap, that s*it don’t cost much
I’m a star, but I’ll smack you, don’t get starstruck

Patience looking at me like, “Cardi, what the fu*k?”
Striped like Thom Brown, these b!tches should calm down
Quicker they lift up, the quicker they fall down
Poor thing, Twitter must be gassing 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 out of time
I’m a legend, they gon’ hang my heels from the power lines

[Interlude]
(Why these b!tches hating?) All I’m saying is
God forbid some s*it happened to the Brim
Put my motherfu*king heels in Nelson Ave (Why these b!tches hating?)
Bronx legend, you heard?

[Verse 3]
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 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!tches, ho, y’all just started starting
Birthday at Carbone, to me, that’s Olive Garden
A n!gga couldn’t take me there, that’s y’all department
Tasteless, basic
I’m a Waldorf penthouse every state, b!tch
2016, I had Fashion Nova lit
Ask Rich, y’all need your ass whipped

[Interlude]
What the fu*k you mean b!tch is oudressing me? (Why these b!tches hating?)
How that b!tch outdressing me with my fu*king vibe, b!tch? (Why these b!tches hating?)
Duh, I dressed that b!tch

[Outro]
Fixing y’all mouth to talk fashion with me
I’m the one who showed these girls what fashion could be
The first rap b!tch 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!tches is nuts, b!tches is ball sacks
And behind my back, b!tches be tight like bra straps, ayy