Doja Cat - Boss Btch (from Birds Of Prey: The Album) [ PREMIUM × 2026 ]

Doja didn’t flinch. She leaned back against a marble pillar, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “I’m a bitch, I’m a boss,” she hummed, the lyrics a low-frequency threat. “I’m a shine and I’m a gloss.”

The enforcer laughed, a wet, ugly sound. He signaled his men. They closed in—suits tight, knuckles cracked. Doja Cat - Boss Btch (from Birds of Prey: The Album)

In three minutes, the room was a wreckage of broken mahogany and unconscious henchmen. Doja stood over the enforcer, who was now clutching his ribs on the Persian rug. Doja didn’t flinch

“And you’ve got a lot of my leather upholstery on your pants,” Doja replied, her voice a silk-wrapped blade. “I’m not here for an apology. I’m here for the keys. And maybe the watch.” “I’m a shine and I’m a gloss

The enforcer, a man built like a brick wall in a silk suit, looked up from his cards. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, girlie.”

She walked out of the club, the heavy beat of the music resuming as if the building itself was exhaling in relief. Outside, the engine of her ride roared to life, a sleek, predatory growl that echoed off the skyscrapers. She didn't look back. Bosses never do.

The neon lights of Gotham didn’t just glow; they bled into the puddles of the Diamond District. Inside ‘The Gilded Cage,’ the air smelled of expensive gin and impending property damage.