[Verse 1] Yo, I'm Cardi B with the wicked flow Ask them, I keep them niggas on their tippy toes Nick-nack-paddy-wack, give a dog a bone Got him runnin' home, fuck him good, get that money flow Pussy got him goin' places he would never go Pussy got him cookin', now he wanna clean the stove Pussy got him fucked up, I think he overdosed But I ain't Travis Scott, I ain't got no antidote Antidote, antidote
[Hook] I think I like that I think I like that I think I like that I think I like that
[Verse 2] Yo, some people know me as a stripper hoe But stripper hoes get the money and blow digits though A lot of bitches talkin' down on me like I'm a joke Talk shit, I'll fuck your man, send him back hella broke I'm laughin', but I really mean it though I'm on another level like I'm playin' Mario These bitches can't see me, even with a telescope Every day I'm shittin' on 'em, I don't flush the toilet bowl Ew! Cause I be workin' and workin' All these heads I be turnin', they on my body like surgeons I think they see my conversion That's why they be lurkin', but their feelings be hurtin' Or remember when I wanna dance at certain clubs And they told me, \"No, no, that's a dub\" Now they the same niggas blowin' up my phone Wantin' me to host, oh word? That's a dub Bands
[Hook] I think I like that (I know, I know they're mad now) I think I like that I think I like that (Hurtin' my feelings) I think I like that
[Verse 3] When I come up in the building I initiate I'm the reason why the fuckers gotta renovate I'm eatin' good and they mad they can't get a plate Never thought we'd be gettin' booked in different states Before the century they didn't even look this way Now they wanna eat my ass like a skirt steak Got 'em sending gifts, it's not even my birthday You niggas soft and I meant that in the worst way Oh you bitches suckin' dick just to get a bag You hustlin'-backwards ass bitch, you're doin' bad It's pretty sad, you should be getting more than that Suck a dick so you can pay your rent, couple months with that I mention flow, keep it on the low, I tell you facts When a nigga 'bout to cum, just throw it back It's over, you won, that nigga trapped And that bank account, girl? Empty that