Queen Of Pop lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, it's me, Joanne f*cking Prada
You thought I was gone?
You were wrong

[Verse 1]
What the f*ck you thought? I still look hot
Say you wanna f*ck 'til I bleed?
n*gga, give me what you got
They say I'm onto nothing, but I'm onto something
You see the follow button? (Hit me, baby, one more time)
I'll break your clit with my front teeth
You faggots think you so c*nty
Miss Voodoo pus*y, b*tch, that's me
Bi-bi-bi-bi-bi-b*tch, that's tea
Fist f*ck me, I'm real fish
You heard "Gutta", I'm a real b*tch
Now pray to Britney and pray to Lindsay
'Cause I'm Satan, that's real sh*t

[Pre-Chorus]
You're on the bottom, I'm on the top
b*tch, I'll never flop

[Chorus]
I'm the queen of pop
(Queen of pop) Queen of pop
(Queen of pop) b*tch, I'll never stop
(Queen of pop) I'm your queen of pop
(Queen of pop) b*tch, I'll never stop
[Post-Chorus]
Prada's coming down to Hollywood
I wanna make it in that neighborhood
They love the smell of mе in Hollywood
How could you hurt me when I look this good? Uh

[Verse 2]
And I'll still come back to slay thе girls
Once I'm in Hollywood
I won't forget for the girls
I'm sick of slaying you weak hoes
Your simple mind, your Goodwill clothes
I'm Oprah, you're Wendy
I'm Madonna, you're Britney
Get a b*tch, 'cause I'm sick of your sh*t
I'm too exclusive, on my business, b*tch
Like it or not, I'm the queen of pop, work!

[Pre-Chorus]
You're on the bottom, I'm on the top
b*tch, I'll never flop

[Chorus]
I'm the queen of pop
(Queen of pop) Queen of pop
(Queen of pop) b*tch, I'll never stop
(Queen of pop) I'm your queen of pop
(Queen of pop) b*tch, I'll never stop
[Bridge]
You're on the bottom, I'm on the top
You're on the bottom, I'm on the top (On the top)
Ah, feels so good to be on top
Take that, take that, take that
I'm on top, I'm on top, I'm on, I'm on, I'm on top
I'm on top, I'm on top, I'm on, I'm on, I'm on top
Top, top, top, top, top, top

[Chorus]
I'm the queen of pop
(Queen of pop) Queen of pop
(Queen of pop) b*tch, I'll never stop
(Queen of pop) I'm your queen of pop
(Queen of pop) b*tch, I'll never stop

[Post-Chorus]
Prada's coming down to Hollywood
I wanna make it in that neighborhood
They love the smell of me in Hollywood
How could you hurt me when I look this good? Uh