"Imaginary Playerz" lyrics

Yeah
It's the motherfucking Brimcess, you heard?
The shit these bitches be braggin' about is like
Shit I was doin' in like 2016 type shit
Like (Why these bitches hating?)
You bitches don't even know the difference between vintage and archive, like (Why these bitches hating?)
Yeah, look

Now I spit that other shit, pretty motherfucker shit
Cardi B, every song platinum, I'm not the other bitch
Whatever you was gon' pay her, you gotta double it
Glory hole, bitches don't know who they fuckin' with
Their money my stocks and share money
Your booking fee is my makeup and hair money
Bitches say I think I'm the shit and do (And do) (And did)
Just know you bitches can't live
I got the hottest shit, hop out, poppin' it
They say I walk around looking like a compliment
Shut up, stop whining, Cardi still shining
Hoes kept complaining so I copped more diamonds
And more archive, vintage couture on me
I got more Gaultier than Jean probably
Summer with cheeks out, winter, it's minks out
I buy grown men watches and make them take links out, bitch

(Why these bitches hating?) I mean
It's really easy for me to talk this shit 'cause I live this shit
(Why these bitches hating?) I just gotta make it rhyme

Bitches, I leave 'em all fucked, fists be balled up
Y'all hoes look cheap, that shit don't cost much
I'm a star, but I'll smack you, don't get starstruck
Patientce lookin' at me like, "Cardi, what the fuck?"
Striped like Thom Browne, these bitches should calm down
Quicker they lift up, the quicker they fall down
Poor thing, Twitter must be gassin' them heavy
Making them jump in the rim with the Brim before they ready
I seen whole fan pages make avatar changes
All that old love go to new fan bases
Now your fifteen up, you already outta time
I'm a legend, they gon' hang my heels from the power lines

(Why these bitches hating?) All I'm saying is
God forbid some shit happened to the Brim
Put my motherfucking heels in Nelson Ave (Why these bitches hating?)
Bronx legend, you heard?

My flop and your flop is not the same
If you did my numbers, y'all would pop champagne
If I did your numbers, I would hop out a plane
Suicide if I fall from the distance of you and I
They gotta be kidding
Whatever they smoking on, it gotta be hitting
The bag you just posted been in the closet sitting
The car he just got you, bow tie and a ribbon?
Been in my driveway not getting driven
Y'all some bench bitches
Ho, y'all just started starting
Birthday at Carbone, to me, that's Olive Garden
A nigga couldn't take me there, that's y'all department
Tasteless, basic
I'm a Waldorf penthouse every state bitch
2016, I had Fashion Nova lit
Ask Rich, y'all need your ass whipped

What the fuck you mean this bitch is outdressing me? (Why these bitches hating?)
How that bitch outdressing me with my fucking vibe, bitch? Duh (Why these bitches hating?)
I dressed that bitch

Fixin' y'all mouth to talk fashion with me
I'm the one who showed these girls what fashion could be
The first rap bitch on the cover of Vogue
But somehow y'all passed me I suppose
I know your type, all bold and all cap
For the Love of Hip Hop, y'all knew me before that
These bitches is nuts, bitches is ball sacks
And behind my back, bitches be tight like bra straps, aye