Supper

This one is for the boys with the boomin' system,
Top down, AC, with the coolin' system
When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up
Stacks on deck like he savin' up
And he ill, he real, he might got a deal
He pop bottles, and he got the right kind of build
He cold, he dope, he might sell coke
He always in the air, but he never fly coach
He a muthafuckin' trip, trip, sailor of the ship, shipWhen he make it drip, drip kiss him on the lip, lip
That's the kind of dude I was lookin' fo'
And yes, you'll get slapped if you're lookin', ho
I said, "Excuse me, you're a hell of a guy
I mean my, my, my, my, you're like pelican fly
I mean, you're so shy, and I'm loving your tie
You're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh!"
Yes, I did, yes, I did
Somebody please tell him who the eff I is
I am Nicki Minaj, I mack them dudes up
Back coupes up, and chuck the deuce up