[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 shit 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

Damn, who colder than me?

You think he colder than me?

You more bipolar than me

You talkin' crazy

I'm tryna book Beyoncé for my wedding day

I'm the type of nigga, spend a million on a wedding cake

Niggas 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 smilin'

I say, "'Cause I make two mil' a day"

And I might take your bitch and pay her bills

That's how I feel today

And I just wanna fuck

Don't wanna chill, that's how I feel today

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]

I'm makin' money like I'm makin' 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 talkin' 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 fuck ya, intercourse ya

I rep Queens where they listen to a bunch of Nas

I'm a yes and these bitches 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

Bitch I'm the greatest, no Kendrick and no Sia

I'm the iPhone, you the Nokia

Everybody know you jealous, bitch it's so clear

Tell them bum ass bitches to play their role

She see my sexy ass every time she scroll

I got it in the can, Dole

Your career gon' be with Anna Nicole

Witcha dumbass face

She ain't eatin' but I swear she got some bum ass taste

Text her man like, "Dawg, how that bum ass taste?"

Pay your rent! And stay in your bum ass place

Oooohhh, oh you the qu-e-e-the queen of this here?

One platinum plaque, album flopped, bitch, where? (bitch, 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

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]

I'm makin' money like I'm makin' 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