LYRICS: Gucci Mane & Nicki Minaj – Make Lovea
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Artist: Gucci Mane/Nicki Minaj
Record Label: 1017/Atlantic
Produced By: UNKNOWN
Released: 2017
[Intro: Nicki Minaj & Gucci Mane]
Uh, Gucci
Wanna make love, love, love
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
King of the skreets
And when these suckas see me, they should bow to my feet
And kiss the ground underneath
I look down at the beef
That s**t childish to me
Two hundred thousand to see me
And it’s been sold out for weeks
Can’t brush shoulders with me
These stones in my choker are 2 karats apiece
Look like boulders to me
Da*n, who colder than me?
You think he colder than me?
You more bipolar than me
You talking crazy
I’m tryna book Beyoncé for my wedding day
I’m the type of n***a, spend a million on a wedding cake
N****s hate, but hesitate
They hate to see ya elevate
I just left out the gym
I’m ’bout to take a swim and meditate
Woo!
Now it’s time to celebrate
Ask me why I’m smiling
I say, (‘Cause I make two mil’ a day)
And I might take your b***h and pay her bills
That’s how I feel today
And I just wanna f**k
Don’t wanna chill, that’s how I feel today
[Hook/Chorus: Gucci Mane]
I’m making money like I’m making sweet love
I wanna make love, love, love
She say the money make her wanna make love
Wanna make love, love, love, huh
[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj]
Ay yo, ain’t talking housewives, but I’m in the Porsche
First I’ma scorch her, then I’ma torch her
Then I’ma torture her, then I’ma off her
A million dollars for a show, they made their off-er
Go against Nicki, it’s gon’ cost ya
‘Cause now it’s f**k ya, intercourse ya
I rep Queens where they listen to a bunch of Nas
I’m a yes and these b*****s is a bunch of nahs
Tryin’ to win a gunfight with a bunch of knives
I win, get off the bench and give a bunch of fives
I don’t see her
B***h I’m the greatest, no Kendrick and no Sia
I’m the iPhone, you the Nokia
Everybody know you jealous, b***h it’s so clear
Tell them bum a** b*****s to play their role
She see my sexy a** every time she scroll
I got it in the can, Dole
Your career gon’ be with Anna Nicole
Witcha dumbass face
She ain’t eating but I swear she got some bum a** taste
Text her man like, (Dawg, how that bum a** taste?)
Pay your rent! And stay in your bum a** place
Oooohhh, oh you the qu-e-e-the queen of this here?
One platinum plaque, album flopped, b***h, where? (b***h, where?)
Hahaha, ahhhhh
I took two bars off just to laugh
You see, silly rabbit, to be the queen of rap
You gotta sell records, you gotta get plaques
S, plural like the S on my chest
Now sit your dumbass down
You got an F on your test
[Hook/Chorus – Gucci Mane]
I’m making money like I’m making sweet love
I wanna make love, love, love
She say the money make her wanna make love
Wanna make love, love, love, huh
[Outro – Gucci Mane]
I love to see the money stack up
Hope that we don’t ever, ever break up (up)
Wanna make love, love, love
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