Red Ruby Da Sleeve Song Lyrics by Nicki Minaj
… Queen
… Only on them C’s if it’s breezeRed Ruby Da Sleeze, Chinese on my sleeveThese wannabe Chun-Li’s, anyway, 你好 (你好)Who the fuck told bitches they was me now? (Ooh)I knew these bitches was slow, I ain’t know these bitches senile (ooh)Married a shooter ‘case you niggas tried to breathe loud (brr-brr)Boom your face off, then I tell him, “Cease fire”I’m the AB side (ha)
… 700 on the horses, when we fixin’ to leaveBut I don’t fuck with horses, since Christopher Reeves(Uh-oh, uh-oh)Gotta be careful when I dip, it’s flips all in the whipsIt’s 40s with 30 clips, FN’s with the switchGuacamole with the taco, waitin’ on El ChapoCame in the Rolls and left low in a Tahoe
… Bad gyal don’t die, die, dieHundred rounds on that, grrah-ta-taReal one lick a shot-ta-taShe my lil’ vibe, my lil’ ah, ah, ahBad gyal never run from nobody, like, ahRude boy want me touchin’ on his body, like, yeahBoy affi dead if he ever diss meYou know what to do if he ever miss me
… Miss me with that na-na-na-na-na-na-naI stay with my na-na-na-na-na-na-naHis ex hit him, he like “Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah”He want the bad gyal sleeze like thatWell, I’m a tease like thatIll na-na-na-na-na-na-naHe told me bring him that na-na-na-na-na-na-naWe don’t be Karen like Donna-na-na-na-na-naI like it when he grab my cheeks like thatWhy I’m a freak like that?
… Bad gyal don’t die, die, dieHundred rounds on that, grrah-ta-taReal one lick a shot-ta-taShe my lil’ vibe, my lil’ ah, ah, ahBad gyal never run from nobody, like, ahRude boy want me touchin’ on his body, like, yeahBoy affi dead if he ever diss meYou know what to do if he ever miss me
… When the Queen leave, bitches wanna come out like a cockroachUntil I’m cookin’ in the kitchen like a pot roastThat new Spectre, we don’t fill pot holesDorito bitches, mad that they not chose
… Shout out my vatosShout out to hoes that’s watching me like Movados (click, click, click)All them, all them botched face photos, why would you post those?Make a gal duppy since I heard you like my ghost, hoes
… Big truck, but I’m alone like Post thoughCall Malone and tell him I’m going postal (brr)These bitches rapping like my blooper rollDesert Eagle, if your nigga acting super bold(Got ’em, got ’em, got ’em) got ’em like, “Uh-oh”Gun fingers like niggas doing the bogle, you fucking bozoThat .40 cal’ll make ’em dance like a go-go
… Super facts, that’s word to Super CatWe ah rude gyal youth and we nuh tek back we chat‘Cause bitches couldn’t walk in my Crocs, that’s word to DundeeJust a bunch of airheads like Kelly BundyMan, these bitches so slow, man, they slower than sloths600 horse, how you gon’ catch the boss?Caught ’em with they hand out, tryna catch the sauceThierry Mugler flow, tryna cut the cloth
… See, the difference is I run businessesIf I ain’t employ you, then what yo business is?I’ll have staff roll up like, “What the business is?”“Oh you don know that my niggas kill witnesses?”
… Bad gyal don’t die, die, dieHundred rounds on that, grrah-ta-taReal one lick a shot-ta-taShe my lil’ vibe, my lil’ ah, ah, ahBad gyal never run from nobody, like, ahRude boy want me touchin’ on his body, like, yeahBoy affi dead if he ever diss meYou know what to do if he ever miss me
… If you want me to stay, I’ll never leaveIf you want me to stay, we’ll always beIf you want me to stay, love endlesslyIf you want me to stay