Spice - Eleven Lyrics

A Spice, the Queen of Dancehall from Jamaica
You know I’m not a rapper…
But Imma do an accent flip

To put my name with a diss? That’s suicide
You only had 11 listeners—so I never lied
You shoulda known, if you slid, you slide, huh?
Imma snipe out the ex-bride

You smashed 11 niggas in a hot tub
A wah do big teeth and big gums?
You got—
11 fake bags and 11 fake furs
11 fake shoes and 11 fake purse
I saw you with 11 fake dresses of yours
You made 11 fake Birkin orders, huh

Imma need you to comprehend this
You gonna need 11 periodontists
To fix your overbite, plus 11 dentists
You need 11 writers—you just an apprentice

You got about 11 times 11 in the bank
11 evictions—girl, let’s be frank
You ain’t on my level, period, point blank
I just closed my 11th house…
Is this a prank?

You mad ‘cause you ain’t got nothin’ on me
Girl, I’m who you wanna be
Clock that, I clock that tea
Girl, I’m who you wanna be

Stay mad, stay mad
Stay mad, stay mad
Stay mad, stay mad
My success gettin’ you mad

Underrated, I’m the most hated
I’m the bad guy—yeah, that’s how they painted
Get blamed for beef that they all created
But I stand ten toes on what I stated

‘Cause Imma stand on it
Slash a bitch face, put a band on it
Transform like a miracle—wand on it
Helicopter, backyard—land on it
Graci Noir on body, yeah, brand on it

Bitch, stop chat
When you see me, fall back
Pull out mi fat Glock
Long time you nuh like me, bitch—I clock that

I’m the queen of a country
Bitch, you can’t touch me
Bite me and chew me
Crunch me and munch me

Go laba juice yuh mada, gyal
Nyam dat for lunch, yeah
Real boomboclaat Jamaican bad gyal
Try know, this a no TV fake bad gyal

Tell your 11 writers fi prepare for me, gyal
And tell your fren dem how you chat dem—hypocrite gyal

You mad ‘cause you ain’t got nothin’ on me
Girl, I’m who you wanna be
Clock that, I clock that tea
Girl, I’m who you wanna be

Stay mad, stay mad
Stay mad, stay mad
Stay mad, stay mad
My success gettin’ you mad

Watchin’ me like you doin’ a retinoscopy
I leave all of you motherfuckers really gossipy
Bitches wanna be me but they a photocopy
They stay up in my ass like a colonoscopy

Misunderstood, ‘cause I’m the realest
Pretty Black bitch—I coulda never be less
Misunderstood, ‘cause I’m the realest
Pretty Black bitch—I coulda never be less

You mad ‘cause you ain’t got nothin’ on me
Girl, I’m who you wanna be
Clock that, I clock that tea
Girl, I’m who you wanna be

Stay mad, stay mad
Stay mad, stay mad
Stay mad, stay mad
My success gettin’ you mad

Suck yuh mada