The Boys Songtext
von Nicki Minaj

P-p-punch line queen, no boxer though
Might pull up in a Porsche, no boxster though
Tell a hater, "Yo, don′t you got cocks to blow?"
Tell them Kangaroo Nick, I'll box a hoe
They said I got five and a possible
Don′t go against Nicki, impossible
I done came through with my wrist on popsicle
Man, these hoes couldn't ball with a testicle, nigga

Your lipstick stain smells like a cheap hotel
D-d-diamond watches and a gold chain
Can't make my frown turn around

The boys always spending all their money on love
The boys always spending all their money on love
They wanna touch it, taste it, see it, feel it, bone it, own it, yeah, yeah
Dollar, dollar, paper chase it, get that money, yeah, yeah

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls
And then cry on top of the world
I hope you have the time of your life
I hope I don′t lose it tonight


B-b-bald head pussy got lots of juice
Lopsided on the curb, so I block the coupes
Watch the deuce
Man, I′m stingy with my kitty cat, daddy
"Did you ever really love me Steebie?"
Rrrr, pull up in the rrrr
Wrist on burr, pussy on purrr-purrr
I don't even brake when I′m backing up
I'll swerve on a nigga if he acting up
I done pushed more sixes than a play date
Get money by the millions, fuck a day rate, nigga

Your bossed up swag got ′em drooling like a newborn babe
The dollars in they eyes got them blinded by a Masquerade

The boys always spending all their money on love
The boys always spending all their money on love
They wanna touch it, taste it, see it, feel it, bone it, own it, yeah, yeah
Dollar, dollar, paper chase it, get that money, yeah, yeah

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls
And then cry on top of the world
I hope you have the time of your life
I hope I don't lose it tonight

I put all you bitches on to them good lace fronts (oop)
Girls is my sons, carried them for eight months (oop)
And yes, you′re premature, Young Money to the Core (oop)
I might give you a ticket so you can come see the tour (oop)


Oh, that's your new girl, that's that mid-grade
Buck 50 on your face with the switchblade
Or the razor, y-y-yeah, the razor
She my son, yeah, b-b-but I ain′t raise her
Goose me, hater, I get that loose leaf paper
Them V-necks be studded out, T-Rex be gutted out

I told ′em Nicki be chilling, I'ma keep hurting they feelings
Because you′ll never be Jordan you couldn't even be Pippen
You couldn′t even be tripping, you can't afford a vacation
I′m out in Haiti with Haitians, I go to Asia with Asians
You mad dusty, you a lil' dusty possum
I just come through with the six like my name was Blossom

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls
And then cry on top of the world
I hope you have the time of your life
I hope I don't lose it tonight

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls
And then cry on top of the world
I hope you have the time of your life
I hope I don′t lose it tonight

The boys always spending all their money on love
The boys always spending all their money on love
The boys always spending all their money on love (uh, Pretty Gang)
(Young Money) the boys always spending all their money on love (Cassie)