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| Nicki Minaj Playtime Is Over | ||
| Released | July 5, 2007 | |
| Genre | Rap | |
| Length | 4:02 | |
| Label | Dirty Money Records | |
| Writer | Onika Maraj | |
| Producer | The Neptunes | |
| Song track listing | |
| "Click Clack" is track number 8. | |
| Previous track "Jump Off '07" |
Next track "40 Bars" |
"Click Clack" is the eight track on Nicki Minaj's first mixtape, Playtime Is Over. The recording is an original rap over the beat of "Click Clack" by Slim Thug and Pusha T.
Music video[]
Nicki Minaj- Click Clack The Come up DVD
The video contains scenes of bikers rearing up and doing tricks with their bikes. Nicki Minaj is seen in a car or by one, or on a motorbike. By the end of the video, Nicki flips off the camera.
Lyrics[]
[Chorus]
A lot of rap n***as be tryna play hard
I was taught to only reach for the heat if you bustin'
So when I lift the shirt, that's the end of discussion
Click clacks motherfuckers, I ain't tryna hear nothing
[Verse 1]
They call me Nicholas, style defined as ridiculous.
I beg your pardon, meet me at the garden
Number one draft, I'm New York's pick
And I don't lose like them dudes on the New York Knicks (check it)
I'm overseas rockin hella capris
In the West Indies eatin delicacies
I tell 'em
They want Kane like Erica, please
Brother, your money young like that n***a Jeezy
These broke rappers always rappin' 'bout a pink truck
I'm only happy when I hopin out the brinks truck
And I don't need a 16, I got a sentence
I goes on a fucker like an entrance
These old bitches betta change they dentures
When I get in the game, they gonna play the benches
Fuck your friendship, pay attention
Bitch get at me, I'mma pay my henchmen
[Chorus]
A lot of rap n***as be tryna play hard
I was tought to only reach for the heat if you bustin'
So when I lift the shirt, that's the end of discussion
Click clacks motherfuckers, I ain't tryna hear nothing
[Verse 2]
They call me Maraj, fuck you and fuck your squad
Head bitch in charge, I ain't talkin' 'bout the dodge
I'm on the other line and I ain't talkin' 'bout call waitin'
I'm VIP lil mama, I just walk straight in
Lil Dolce & Gabbana got this whore hatin'
That's why I pop up in the Porsche with the top vacant
Mami stop fakin', talkin' bout what you got
You ain't got nothin' and your not caking
You're not my taste, get outta my face
I play the top like eight friends on your Myspace
Stay in a child's place, check the timin'
I rock bitches like they throwin' up the diamond (It's the Roc!)
Get on a flight, I be bakin' on islands.
Mami, your accent sound faker than Dylan.
Murder them? Murder them
Fuck a competition, already murder them.
[Chorus]
A lot of rap n***as be tryna play hard
I was tought to only reach for the heat if you bustin'
So when I lift the shirt, that's the end of discussion
Click clacks motherfuckers, I ain't tryna hear nothing
[Verse 3]
They call me Nicki M., hard to find me in a sticky bin
I play the club with a thug and some pretty friends
And if they ain't got the gat, they got the knife on
You're too whack to get up on one of my songs
You got a deal 'cause you was givin up the cuchi prolly
But I'll arrange one hit like Oochie Wallie
And you'll be gone to November like Wyclef
I hold weight and I ain't talkin' 'bout biceps
I rep Queens like a crown, when I'm in the town
Ask Yung Joc, it's goin' down
Kisses to my bitches and my n***as, getta pound
June, turn me up, mic check, how I sound?
Bitches don't know the half like they flunked that math
Give a fuck about a bitch and the clique she with
Unless you doin' them numbers like arithmetic
Young Nic, holla back and turn up my shit
[Chorus]
A lot of rap n***as be tryna play hard
I was tought to only reach for the heat if you bustin'
So when I lift the shirt, that's the end of discussion
Click clacks motherfuckers, I ain't tryna hear nothing
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