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Nicki Minaj - 2009 Bet Hip Hop Awards Cypher 1 Lyrics

[Verse 1: Nicki Minaj]
Uh
Call me Dracula, 'cause all I do is count chips
Your money mini, I ain't talkin' 'bout the mouse, trick
These girls runnin' like I just threw the bouquet
They know I'm headed to the top like a toupee
Now all the bums is wonderin' where I be's at
If you ain't a Barbie, it's none of ya freakin' beeswax
These little rappers, I can see them in my dash cam
I know they grouchy like Oscar up out the trash can
I'm on stage; you can sit in the crowd
I be up in Lear jets, make a left at the cloud, haha
I think she need the Heimlich; she the chokin' kind
She gets no burn, no smokin' sign
Yeah, metaphor heaven
So they approve Nicki like my credit score seven
Mac and cheese, six, fried chicken da guts
And I'm killing these bitches, Mike Vickin' it up, yeah

[Verse 2: Buckshot]
Don't play with Buck; I'm not a video game
I'm so serious, put so many holes in your brain
You oblivious to the fact you oh, period
Who the ass said, who the ass meant "Y'all, there he is!"
Look, neck full of high-class diamonds
The wrist lookin' like it made a trip to Mohammed
In the Colosseum or Harlem or Canal
You cop jewels by the pennyweight, I go by the pound
Anyway, I go by the sound, not by the style
So when you cop my CD, you can go out of town
Go outta bounds? I'm blowin' the whistle: referee
BDP, y'all know I'm official, y'all go, I'ma tissue
Y'all dudes is shit, you'll go lights out, wiped out
Can't outwit me, outsmart me or outfit me
Listen, this my year
I got the arsenal with me, this my [?]
[Verse 3: Crown Royyal]
Check the hoodie, check the feet
So fly I need air traffic control to direct me through the street
Cash the check; I'm fresh to death
Like I die, it's suicide, then I resurrect
Then I do it again, ostrich skin
I got National Geographics on my clothes; tune-in, ha
Yeah, you could try to keep up, but I know you not worthy
I keep a nest for these birds, 'cause I know they be thirsty
Been swaggin' all my life, man, what is this? Your third day?
Swagger 3000, all my fly people, it's your day
Rock star to rebel, on another level
Gotta give you the scoop with no shovel
Chandelier wrist, check the bezel
Crown Royyal, I'm bumpin' like bass and treble
I check these dudes fresh; they just don't pass
Guess I gotta take 'em to swag class, ah

[Verse 4: Joe Budden]
Wanna talk about bars, mine leave it be
Never needed an A&R, mine needed me
There's one thing in this world I can't stomach's a fake
You tryna stop what ain't come with a brake, some of y'all made a mistake
Some of y'all been deprived, ain't seen the skill
Just got the truck customized, got a meaner grill
Told baby, just bein' real
"Leave or get balls in your mouth," I spoke to her like Serena Will'
Top back, top cats get a beatin'
Sayin' you the best, should stop it, it's misleadin'
'Cause I might cock back to get even
It's not a wet dream; you just gettin' shot at while you sleepin', uh
Feel like the game can't be weaker
That's why homie rarely do the cameos and features
I'm good with my insanity and fevers
'Cause Pac lookin' from heaven sayin', "They ain't understand me neither"
Wanna play it ain't worth it, maybe why I'm feeling like
'Ye, you prolly won an award, but you ain't deserve it"
Circa '01, homeboy, he a vet
Leave 'em deep regrets like they Tila Tequila's neck
You past your prime, I ain't spit ether yet
You need a major; I just need an ethernet
Word on the street, I made the OG's be upset
'Cause I'm a student of the game, not a teacher's pet