– Nicki, are you okay? Are you all right? – Hey.
– Is she okay? – She’s fine. – They’re really heavy today.
– I know! You have the most incredible eyelashes. – They’re real! 100% real. – I know, I know. You are so blessed,
and you know what? I bet they are so heavy. – I am from Jamaica, Queens, New York, bitch! I can handle it. – I know!
– Are we gonna get to work here? – We absolutely are, I just…
– Wait! What is all this “weeee”? Are you TALKING right now?! – I just want to step in…
– Zip! No talking in my creative space or in my car!
A manager is supposed to support, not talk! Just stand there. – Listen, Trixie, you know the deal. No talking, no eye contact,
no audible breathing. All right, Nicki. You set? Naohummm – Juicy Jessie jumped off her Jumbo jet while
jokingly gesticulated just like JarJar. Red leather yellow leather. This is just a warm up. Interrupt the queen and get your ass torn up. Oh my god! Where are my headphones?!
I can’t lay it down without my headphones! I need diamonds on my ears! I am not Coldplay! *Warranted Reaction* Minaj entourage, mirage, roll the montage,
exploit-age, two-car garage. Smack your face in a public place
like my name was Solange. Where’s the second mic?!
My booty gets its own mic! How else am I gonna get that ass track?! *Warranted Reaction 2: The reactioning* – Okay…? Now can we lay something down, Nicki? – Who this?! Ah huh. Ahhh!
Yeah, yeah I been there, ah huh. – That’s a fake phone call.
– Oh, you ARE funny. Well, thank you for the compliments.
I appreciate them, and I agree; I am the Michael Jordan of the
hip-hop game… and basketball. – That’s not even a real phone. That’s a granola bar. – I’ll see you tonight on our date, Idris Elba. *Phone makes unusual buzzing sound* Drop dat stank beat Van This one is called “Even Bigger Andaquonda.” – Yeah we’re gonna need to proof
for that Shonda reference. – I call out who I wanna call out! Like, here’s another
track where I call out all those lousy mumble-rappers. Give me a beat! – So, other than that first line, you’re just going to
mumble-rap the whole verse yourself… – Yeah, because I wanna show people
how dumb and cheap it is. – Well, it was certainly dumb and cheap.
– Wateeeeeeer-aaah! mmm. Euh! Why are you walking like that?!
Ahh! Why are you talking? Ah, okay. Now write another note that says
“Too bad! Love, Nicki,” and then hand it to me. Now smack yourself. Should have peed on your own time!
Nobody pisses on Nicki-time ‘cept Nicki, okay? Now let’s get back to these punk-ass mumblers. – I don’t think your anger towards
mumble-rappers is real. – I am so tired of people telling me my shit ain’t real!
– What, like people saying you aren’t original? Or that you dress like Lady Gaga or something?
– Okay, okay, okay. Do NOT agitate me, Van! – If I wanted to agitate you,
I’d call you a second-rate Da Brat. – Oh, HELL no! – Hey, Nicki, I’m sorry, why did we need this butt mic?
It seems like a lot of unnecessary… That was nice, Nicki and… Nicki’s ass, twin.
– Thank you. – You’re too kind, sir.
– Ahh, I can’t even remember why I was so mad. – Should we get an actual singer for the hook?
Miley Cyrus, maybe? – Ahh!!! – And we got the hook. – Hmm, why does this smell like pee in here?