Nicki Minaj, Ciara - I'm Legit (Album Version (Edited))
Song lyrics
I'm the shit with no makeup, don't have to curl my hair up,
All this booty here mine, I'm a dollar worth a dime.
Real bosses, stand up, ladies, throw your hands up and say,
“I know I'm cute, I know I'm fly. You ask me why? ‘Cause I'm the shit!”
[Verse 1: Nicki Minaj]
Beat em' like they stole some, beat em' like they stole some,
All this booty here got ‘em dreamin', lemme hold some.
Lemme, lemme hear that boy, lemme, lemme wear that boy,
Let me get the most expensive car, and let me steer that boy.
Real big pretty titty, shut down every city,
If you want the kid kitty, gotta get the key from me,
All new everything, plus pay the rent for me.
If we in the wilderness, niggas pitch the tent for me,
Tent for me, tent for me, get me bodied.
Long hair, no makeup, doin' pilates,
Those niggas don't step on my damn Zanottis.
All them bitches my sons, but who's the Daddy?
I graduate with honors, I ball, Nead O'Connor,
I did a freestyle, then I got a shout out from Obama.
Yes, yes, I am ill, I go in for the kill,
Hoes is my sons, birth control, I am on the pill.
What I gotta do? What I gotta do to ‘em?
Step up in the club, everybody like, “Who dem?”
Girls, girls, me and my girls.
What you done did? I need some referrals.
Mothafuckas know I'm the shit, legit.
And if a mothafucka don't, he can suck my dick.
I tell ‘em, “Everybody else is my opposite!”
I put ‘em on the game, give ‘em five percent.
[Chorus: x2]
[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj]
I'm like really famous, I got a famous anus,
No, not Famous Amos, all this fame is heinous.
Lemme, lemme hear that boy, lemme, lemme wear that boy,
All this money comin' in, but I never share that, boy.
No lipstick, no lashes, though,
But I got a real big ol' ratchet, though.
I said dude, “Yo, dude, you packin' dough!”
He said he want a good box like Pacquiao.
I said, “Well, my name Nicki and it's nice to meet you.
If you really wanna know, I'll give you my procedure”.
Got a whole bunch of pretty gang in my clique,
And we lookin' for some ballers, alopecia.
I hate wack niggas, I should really slap niggas,
These niggas trippin' when I put ‘em on the map, niggas.
How you gon' break fly? How you gon' fake die?
Ain't at no weddin' but all my girls cake, ha!
Sleepin' on me, no mattress, though,
I'm a burn the beat down, no matches, though,
No they can't keep up? They molasses slow,
I'm the greatest Queens bitch, with the cashes flow.
Lookin' at me like it's my fault,
Tryin' to take sneak pictures with they iPhone,
I like independent bitches like July 4th,
Now that's what young Harriet died for.
[Chorus: x2]
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