The Cipher

Call me Dracula because 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 at
If you ain't a Barbie it's none of your freakin' beeswax!
These little rappers, I could see them in my dash cam
I know they grouchy like Oscar up out the trash can
I'm on stage, you can sit the crowd
I be up in Lear jets, make a left at the cloud
I think she need the Heimlich, she the chokin' kind
She gets no burn, no smokin' sign
Metaphor heaven
So they approve Nicki like my credit score seven
Mac 'n' cheese stix , fried chicken, the guts
And I'm killin' these bitches, Mike Vickin' it up!