Créditos
ARTISTAS INTÉRPRETES
Nicki Minaj
Canto
Drake
Canto
Lil Wayne
Canto
Chris Brown
Canto
Jmike
Programación
Dr. Luke
Programación
Cirkut
Programación
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Onika Maraj
Autoría
Aubrey Drake Graham
Autoría
Jeremy Coleman
Autoría
Lukasz Gottwald
Autoría
Timothy Thomas
Autoría
Theron Thomas
Autoría
Henry Russell Walter
Autoría
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Autoría
PRODUCCIÓN E INGENIERÍA
Jmike
Producción
Dr. Luke
Producción
Serban Ghenea
Ingeniería de mezcla
Todd Bergman
Asistente de ingeniería de grabación
Cameron Montgomery
Asistente de ingeniería de grabación
Noel Cadastre
Ingeniería de grabación
Aubry "Big Juice" Delaine
Ingeniería de grabación
Rachael Findlen
Ingeniería de grabación
Clint Gibbs
Ingeniería de grabación
Omar Loya
Ingeniería de grabación
Brian Springer
Ingeniería de grabación
Cirkut
Producción
John Hanes
Ingeniería
Letra
[Verse 1]
Yo, I never fucked Wayne, I never fucked Drake
On my life, man, fuck's sake
If I did, I'd ménage 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, worried about y'all ****, us straight
These girls are my sons, Jon & Kate Plus 8
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-fuck with them real **** who don't tell **** what they 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 seasonin'
And tell 'em bitches blow me
Lance Stephenson
[Chorus]
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July
Nothin' but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it, be quiet
Nothin' but real **** only
Bad bitches only
Rich **** only
Independent bitches only
Boss **** only
Thick bitches only
I got my real **** here by my side
Only
[Verse 2]
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, "Goddam, this is the perfect time"
We had just come from that video
You know L.A. traffic, how the city slow
She was sittin' down on that big butt
But I was still staring at the titties though
Yeah, low-key it may be high-key, I been peeped that you like me, you know?
Who the fuck you really want to be but 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 that wanna suck you dry and then eat some lunch wit' you
Yeah, so thick that everybody else in the room is so uncomfortable
Ass on Houston Texas, but the face look just like Clair Huxstable
Oh, yeah, you the man in the city when the mayor fuck wit' you
The NBA players fuck wit' you
The bad ass bitches doin' makeup and hair fuck wit' you, ah
That's 'cause I believe in somethin', I stand for it
And Nicki, if you ever trying to fuck, just give me the heads up so I can plan for it
[Chorus]
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July
Nothin' but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it be quiet
Nothin' but real **** only
Bad bitches only
Rich **** only
Independent bitches only
Boss **** only
Thick bitches only
I got my real **** here by my side
Only
[Verse 3]
I never fucked Nick 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
That's another story, I'm no storyteller
I piss greatness like gold is yellow
All my goons so overzealous
I'm from Holly Grove, the holy Mecca
Calendar say I got money for days
I squirm and I shake, but I'm stuck in my ways
My girlfriend will beat a bitch up if she waved
They better 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 swallowed the truth
Then I make you burp, boy, treat beef like sirloin
I'm talkin' 'bout runnin' the houses with army guns
So think about your son and daughter rooms
Got two hoes with me, messed up, they got smaller guns
Ain't thinkin' 'bout your son and daughter rooms
This shit is crazy, my ****
I mean brazy, my ****, that money talk
I just rephrase it, my ****, blood gang take the B out
Behavior, my ****, for reals
If you mouth off, I'll blow your face off
I mean, pop-pop-pop, then I take off
****, now you see me, ****, now you don't
Like Jamie Foxx acting like Ray Charles
Sixteen in a clip, one in the chamber
Seventeen Ward bully with seventeen bullets
My story is how I went from poor me
To please pour me a drink and celebrate with me
[Chorus]
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July
Nothin' but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it be quiet
Nothin' but real **** only
Bad bitches only
Rich **** only
Independent bitches only
Boss **** only
Thick bitches only
I got my real **** here by my side
Only
Written by: Aubrey Drake Graham, Henry Russell Walter, Jeremy Coleman, Lil Wayne, Lukasz Gottwald, Onika Maraj, Theron Thomas, Timothy Thomas