Wild Ones

I’m the baddest on the team

New York Fashion week?

You couldn’t see me in Chanel

Designed and outlined

Saved and famous

Chanel arrangement

I designed the team

We wear, rock supreme

Twenty two levels of ruin

Seasons, I changed them

Chanel, my sequel

I’m in it, the sequel

The reason?

The tat

The purpose?

Bitches, off my back

Twenty missed calls?

Try me, Megan

Twenty eight

Call again and I’m banging

I’m in your lane, but you’re smoking

I’m blazing

My name rang digits

In my life there is nothing but bliss, bitch

Kitty Kat, fish

Me and you?

For now, you are on my hit list

Streaming, but catch this

I write for you more than the next bitch

First Cardi, then Nick

Traumazine?

Bore sneeze, fish

Fisheeeer, sweet

My sweety gummy bites, fishy treats

Ice Spice is not your equal

Forbes list, when I’m listed, bitch I beat you

Three hundred and eighty five commas

I’m about my mileage

Not with my man

The bands in hand

My hand

My hand

My hand

My hands

Magnificent? No

So catch these hands

As I’m over the phone keyboard wearing your weave in hand

For this I ball, I fan

Wanna Be? Diss?

GloRilla, bands

Back of my Man

I’m in the mirror

I saw my man again

Copped a fan

A defeated lane?

Your voice, over noise, over a choice

To diss your writer

Cop your noise

Before I bring my boys

Hornets

The killer boys

Unified, we’re about that noise

Back to you, the stallion poise

Backed and bothered

I own the Royce

The Rolls

The Royce

Your Hyundai saw you hit fifty seven

Child please?

You fuck for the team

I Rise

I’m Overall!

So, are you on the team?

Salute!