elephant - cupcakke lyrics
[intro]
it feel hot as h*ll in this studio, man
i feel like sn*tchin’ off this wig, goin’ crazy
it’s finna get ugly for you hoes
[verse]
they’re like, “cupcakke, you gotta do more, why the f*ck you don’t do features?” (ah)
’cause it’s no face, no case, that’s why i don’t do the sh*t, let me teach you (that all)
got one call, keep the circle small, like the lace holes in your sneakers (on god)
i be a city girl, finna clap a b*tch, chopper make her shake like caresha
i’m on your block boy, no jb, uh
h*lla woke but i play sleep, uh
want a verse? gotta pay me
ain’t sh*t free, no jt
he got a mask on ’cause his breath stank, that sh*t ain’t due to no covid, hoe (hahahaha)
the draco puttin’ holes in ’em, man, it look like i’m spellin’ ovo
man, nicki ain’t won a grammy yet? that ain’t sittin’ right, that’s hate
and my makeup be on beat, i bet blueface can’t relate
they say, “you lackin’ when it come to interviews,” i say, “nah, n*gga, i’m straight”
’cause there’s no need for the breakfast club if you already done ate
like her n*gga did on that one night i forgot to shave, that’s weird
that n*gga left her house with no facial hair but i sent him back with a beard (d*mn)
when i’m the hood, bro, i’m good, hoe, when they offer food and beers
’cause these n*ggas got roaches so i just hold the cup and say, “cheers”
no, i don’t wanna drink, give a f*ck what you think
yeah, my attitude stink but my p*ssy still pink
walk in with a mink, drip hard like the sink
and the glock get drawn on a n*gga, black ink
b*tches so rude when i’m out with my dude
they be staring at him and they don’t even blink
f*ck it, i gave her a black eye, no peas
now that b*tch don’t even know how to wink
now she fetty wap, while i’m getting guap, b*tches so fraud when they speak
think she fly, must be spirit ’cause i swear to god, that’s cheap
told that b*tch, “beat your feet, there’s no way my n*gga gon’ cheat”
’cause it’s rosa parks on a n*gga face, i ain’t gettin’ up from this seat (hahaha)
if you got somethin’ to say, then say it b*tch, and you better say it wit’ yo’ chest
everyday, i make another b*tch p*ssed, i’m like a walkin’ pregnancy test
shorty, i’m all the way on the top floor and you d*mn near front desk
it take one bullet, now you heaven sent, i’ll let keisha cole say the rest
n*ggas get a haircut and a gucci belt, then wanna flex in they sh*tty clothes
whole time, n*ggas money shorter than tory lanez on his tippy*toes
so sl!ck with the sh*t, you can never peep when i’m out here givin’ cold
like, i can say, “i got a booger,” and that just mean wipe a n*gga nose
talk sh*t on the internet then i pulled up, she was h*lla proper
since her brain so foggy, bring back kobe, put her in the helicopter
and it’s r.i.p, to his daughter, man, we gon’ ball like gigi
foot on they neck, then they ass dead, these hoes elephant, fifi, ayo
hoes so silly, flow on milli
b*tches turned out four*five big dealers
p*ssy so trilly, he pay the billy
then i let him f*ck, um, no, not really
everything is at stake like philly
tea so hot that it’s finna get spilly
this for chicago, 63rd cosmos, but i got cribs in hollywood hilly
last night, i met karen, i had to beat the b*tch out her cargos (stupid ass)
2020, n*ggas still racist but it ‘posed to be ’bout what the heart shows
black and white sense of unity, we could really look like a barcode
but right now, it feel like doin’ laundry, can’t mix the whites with the dark clothes
so, n*gga, i’m not convinced
this that muhf*ckin’ opulence
if not me, who toppin’ this?
no, we ain’t sh*t but the opposites
use your muhf*ckin’ common sense
in the face, i let the llama spit (brra)
now she talkin’ ’bout, “let’s make up,” do i look like rihanna, b*tch?
“please cupcakke, please, can you take this sh*t ease?” (nope)
i’m in my bag like i’m eatin’ king crab, let me roll up my sleeve
these hoes irritate my soul, like seein’ air forces with the creases (what are those?)
and you know i keep that .40, that b*tch bussin’ like bernice, on god
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