เนื้อเพลง Click Clack - Nicki Minaj

[Chorus:]
Alot of rap n*ggas be trynna play hard
I was tought to only reach
When I lift da shirt dats da end of discussion
Click Clack mutha f*ckaz, I ain't trynna hear dat

[Verse 1:]
They call me Nicholas, style defined as ridiculous
I beg your pardon, meet me at da garden
#1 draft, I'm New York's pick & I don't lose
Like dem dudes on da new york knicks... (check it)
I'm over seas rockin hella capris,
In da west indies eatin delacasies... I tel em
Dey want cain like erica... please
Brotha your money young like goverment cheese
Dese broke rappers always rappin bout a pink truck,
I'm only happy wen I hopin out da brincks truck
And I don't need a 16, I got a sentence...
I goes on a f*cka like an entrance
Dese old b*tches betta change dey denture,
Wen I get in da game dey gon play da benches
F*ck your friendship, pay attention
B*tch get at me, I'm a pay my henchmen

[Chorus:]
Alot of rap n*ggas be trynna paly hard
I was tought ?
When I lift da shirt dats da end of discussion
Click Clcak mutha f*ckaz, I ain't trynna hear nuthin

[Verse 2:]
Dey call me Maraj, F*ck u & f*ck your squad
Head b*tch in charge, I ain't talkin bout da tod
I'm on da other line & I ain't talkin bout call waitin
I'm VIP lil mama I jus walk str8 in
Lil Dolce & Gabanna got dis bul hatin,
Dats I pop up in da porch with da top vacant
Mami stop fakin, talkin bout wat u got,
U ain't got NATHIN & your not caking
Your not my taste, get outta my face,
I play da top like eight friendz on your myspace
Stay in a childs place... Check da timin
I roc b*tches like dey throwin up da diamond (ITS THE ROC)
U on a flight, I be bakin on islands
Mami your accent sound faker den Dylan
MURDA DEM, MURDA DEM, f*ck a competition, Already murda dem

[Chorus:]
Alot of rap n*ggas be trynna paly hard
I was tought ?
When I lift da shirt dats da end of discussion
Click Clcak mutha f*ckaz, I ain't trynna hear nuthin

[Verse 3:]
Dey call me Nicki M., hard to find me in a sticky gin
I play da club, with a thug & sum pretty friendz
And if dey ain't got da gat, dey got da knife on
Your too wack to get up on one of y song
U gotta deal, cause u was givn up da coochie prolly,
But I'll arrange one hit like oochie wallie
And u'll be gon to November like Wyclef,
I hold wieght & I ain't talkin bout Biceps
I rep Queens like da crown, wen I'm in da town,
Ask Yung Joc... it's goin down
Kisses to my b*tches and my n*ggas, getta pound
June, turn me up... mic check... ?
B*tches don't kno da half, like dey flucked at math,
Give a f*ck about a b*tch & da clique she with
Unless u doin dem numbaz like arithmetic,
Young nic.holla bac & turn up my shyt

[Chorus:]
Alot of rap n*ggas be trynna paly hard
I was tought ?
When I lift da shirt dats da end of discussion
Click Clack mutha f*ckaz, I ain't trynna hear nuthin