Make Love Lyrics - Nikki Minaj

[Intro: Nicki Minaj & Gucci Mane] 

Uh, Gucci 

Wanna make love, love, love 

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane] 

King of the skreets 

And when these suckas see me, they should bow to my feet 

And kiss the ground underneath 

I look down at the beef 

That shit childish to me 

Two hundred thousand to see me 

And it's been sold out for weeks 

Can't brush shoulders with me 

These stones in my choker are 2 karats apiece 

Look like boulders to me 

Damn, who colder than me? 

You think he colder than me? 

You more bipolar than me 

You talkin' crazy 

I'm tryna book Beyoncé for my wedding day 

I'm the type of nigga, spend a million on a wedding cake 

Niggas hate, but hesitate 

They hate to see ya elevate 

I just left out the gym 

I'm 'bout to take a swim and meditate 

Woo! 

Now it's time to celebrate 

Ask me why I'm smilin' 

I say, "'Cause I make two mil' a day" 

And I might take your bitch and pay her bills 

That's how I feel today 

And I just wanna fuck 

Don't wanna chill, that's how I feel today 

[Chorus: Gucci Mane] 

I'm makin' money like I'm makin' sweet love 

I wanna make love, love, love 

She say the money make her wanna make love 

Wanna make love, love, love, huh 

[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj] 

Ay yo, ain't talkin' housewives, but I'm in the Porsche 

First I'ma scorch her, then I'ma torch her 

Then I'ma torture her, then I'ma off her 

A million dollars for a show, they made their off-er 

Go against Nicki, it's gon' cost ya 

'Cause now it's fuck ya, intercourse ya 

I rep Queens where they listen to a bunch of Nas 

I'm a yes and these bitches is a bunch of nahs 

Tryin' to win a gunfight with a bunch of knives 

I win, get off the bench and give a bunch of fives 

I don't see her 

Bitch I'm the greatest, no Kendrick and no Sia 

I'm the iPhone, you the Nokia 

Everybody know you jealous, bitch it's so clear 

Tell them bum ass bitches to play their role 

She see my sexy ass every time she scroll 

I got it in the can, Dole 

Your career gon' be with Anna Nicole 

Witcha dumbass face 

She ain't eatin' but I swear she got some bum ass taste 

Text her man like, "Dawg, how that bum ass taste?" 

Pay your rent! And stay in your bum ass place 

Oooohhh, oh you the qu-e-e-the queen of this here? 

One platinum plaque, album flopped, bitch, where? (bitch, where?) 

Hahaha, ahhhhh 

I took two bars off just to laugh 

You see, silly rabbit, to be the queen of rap 

You gotta sell records, you gotta get plaques 

S, plural like the S on my chest 

Now sit your dumbass down 

You got an F on your test 

[Chorus: Gucci Mane] 

I'm makin' money like I'm makin' sweet love 

I wanna make love, love, love 

She say the money make her wanna make love 

Wanna make love, love, love, huh 

[Outro: Gucci Mane] 

I love to see the money stack up 

Hope that we don't ever, ever break up (up) 

Wanna make love, love, love