Exploring the themes of wealth, status, and power in the contemporary hip-hop scene, this track provides an unapologetic portrayal of the artists' lives. The lyrics repeatedly reference expensive brands and material possessions, emphasizing their financial success and high social standing. The song also touches on the dangers and competitiveness within their industry, with mentions of 'shooters' and 'big dogs'. This suggests a survival-of-the-fittest mentality where only the most successful thrive. Furthermore, the repeated phrase "Cooler than a bitch" serves as a metaphor for their perceived superiority and coolness in comparison to others in their field. As such, this song can be seen as both a celebration of success and a critique of the ruthless nature of fame in modern music culture.
COOLER THAN A BITCH
Lyrics
Hey
Hey
Cooler than a bitch (cool)
Let her think twice, my shooter in the VIP (yeah)
Tenth grade, bought a Franck Muller off of licks (yeah)
Percocet, feelin' like I'm cruisin' on a ship (whoa)
It's your birthday, put some icin' on your wrist (ice)
I reached every goal, had to write another list (yeah)
I'm strokin' on a toe while she bitin' on her lip (stroke)
I fly across the globe and I call another hit (fly)
They watchin' 'cause they know how slimey it can get (slime)
I'm ridin' to the top from the bottom of ditch (bottom off the ditch)
Your favorite rapper burnt and he runnin' out of hits (runnin' out of hits)
Say the wrong word, and I'ma shoot him in his shit (yeah)
We some big dogs, you a poodle, I'm a pit (shoot him)
I don't trust these hoes at all, just as far as I can spit (far as I can spit)
We fuckin' up the mall, if you like it, then you get it (like it, then you get it)
We stack the money tall, if you broke, then we'll fix it (tall)
I feel like a rocket, I'm goin' outer space (outer space)
Got pretty vibes with me, I make sure all of 'em straight
I dress a bitch, I put her in some Prada and BAPE
Young Wunna international in all fifty states (whoa)
Listen, I might buss a nigga, war ready
Chop a nigga crew with a machete
Smokin' gasoline, ninety-three, unleaded
Card never D'd, I can spend without a limit (yeah)
Three Rolls watches and they all got baguette'd (whoa)
I got ten bad bitches, I keep all of 'em happy (yeah)
You ain't did nothin' for my bitch, bought an all-gold Patek
She can suck a good dick, get the Benz 4Matic (Benz)
This a rich nigga, come and feel my fabric
Young GunWunna, I got hundreds in my pants and my jacket
Chandelier all in the ceilin', think we fuckin' in the palace
When you really gettin' millions, it gon' up a nigga status, up a nigga status
Cooler than a bitch (cool)
Let her think twice, my shooter in the VIP (yeah)
Tenth grade, bought a Franck Muller off of licks (yeah)
Percocet, feelin' like I'm cruisin' on a ship (whoa)
It's your birthday, put some icin' on your wrist (ice)
I reached every goal, had to write another list (yeah)
I'm strokin' on a toe while she bitin' on her lip (stroke)
I fly across the globe and I call another hit (fly)
They watchin' 'cause they know how slimey it can get (slime)
I'm ridin' to the top from the bottom of ditch (bottom off the ditch)
Your favorite rapper burnt and he runnin' out of hits (runnin' out of hits)
Say the wrong word, and I'ma shoot him in his shit (yeah)
We some big dogs, you a poodle, I'm a pit (shoot him)
I don't trust these hoes at all, just as far as I can spit (far as I can spit)
We fuckin' up the mall, if you like it, then you get it (like it, then you get it)
We stack the money tall, if you broke, then we'll fix it (tall)
Pull up to the Maybach in the driveway, hm
Traphouse, had bitches countin' hundreds in the room
How you claimin' you a street nigga havin' loose lips?
Got a lot of new shit, Eliantte chain like the bottom of a ship
Got my niggas in the feds, gettin' loads when they get out
Keefa had to bring the Bentayga with the kit out
Got five bitches rollin' off the dope at the penthouse
She ain't tryna give me no neck, she had to get out
Send my young shooters, go wet some shit
Big brother taught me how to sip Actavis
When I pull up Mulsanne, she get crackin' on the dick
Lil' shawty gave me brain, I almost crashed the whip
Get her Saint Laurent, what's your shoe size?
Fucked her, I done came 'bout two times, yeah
I got top on top the rooftop, yeah
Big Cullinan, suicide, yeah
Cooler than a bitch (cool)
Let her think twice, my shooter in the VIP (yeah)
Tenth grade, bought a Franck Muller off of licks (yeah)
Percocet, feelin' like I'm cruisin' on a ship (whoa)
It's your birthday, put some icin' on your wrist (ice)
I reached every goal, had to write another list (yeah)
I'm strokin' on a toe while she bitin' on her lip (stroke)
I fly across the globe and I call another hit (fly)
They watchin' 'cause they know how slimey it can get (slime)
I'm ridin' to the top from the bottom of ditch (bottom off the ditch)
Your favorite rapper burnt and he runnin' out of hits (runnin' out of hits)
Say the wrong word, and I'ma shoot him in his shit (yeah)
We some big dogs, you a poodle, I'm a pit (shoot him)
I don't trust these hoes at all, just as far as I can spit (far as I can spit)
We fuckin' up the mall, if you like it, then you get it (like it, then you get it)
We stack the money tall, if you broke, then we'll fix it (tall)
Ice
Yeah
Slime
Runnin' out of hits
Yeah
Writer(s): Jeff Lacroix, Lucas Difabbio, Rodrick Moore, Sergio Kitchens
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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