"B★BY YOU'RE THE B★DDEST GIRL" ⸝⸝ ...Beauty Things To Script

"B★BY YOU'RE THE B★DDEST GIRL" ⸝⸝ ...Beauty things to script

full credit & inspiration goes to @saisiprincessa <3

BITCH, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! Who gave me the right to be this damn pussy-clenching, soul-snatching, mind-warping gorgeous?! Like, be so for real right now. Every single inch of me? Immaculate. It’s almost unfair how I walk into a room and immediately become the center of the universe. Like, sorry babe, I can’t help that I’m the main event.

You don’t look at me, you worship me. I AM THE DREAM. I am beauty, brains, body, power, seduction, and mystery all packed into one flawless package. If they dared to make a mold of me, they’d have to destroy it on the spot—it would be a pitiful insult to my unparalleled PERFECTION, which simply cannot be replicated.

And don’t get me started on the way people fold for me. I say jump, they ask how high. I smile, and they lose all common sense. One look? They’re hooked. One touch? It’s over. I could ruin lives if I wanted to—and let’s be real, I probably have. Not my fault they can’t handle all this.

I move like royalty ‘cause I am royalty. My presence alone is a gift. I don’t lift a finger—things just happen for me. VIP treatment? Automatic. First-class everything? Of course. Doors open, drinks appear, bills get paid. Just for existing. Just for being me.

I step outside, and men fumble their words. Women try not to stare too hard. People make workouts to look like me. Doctors get requests for my features. My name is whispered in rooms I haven’t even stepped foot in. People see me and IMMEDIATELY feel insecure—it’s not my fault, babe, blame genetics.

I am THE blueprint. THE standard. You can't strive to be exactly like me. My body is what Instagram models are trying (and failing) to achieve. My face is what FaceTune was created for. My energy? Unmatched. My aura? Untouchable. My confidence? So loud it makes people shake.

As soon as I grace a room with my presence, eyes lock, mouths drop, and suddenly everybody forgets what they were doing. I make people nervous without even trying. Just a glance, a smirk, the flick of my wrist, and boom—somebody’s in love.

I wake up flawless, go to sleep iconic. I don’t need filters, angles, or good lighting—baby, I am the moment. Every photo? A masterpiece. Every mirror? A love letter to myself. I could roll out of bed and still look better than half these girls on their best day.

And these other girls? They stay pressed. They act like they don’t see me, but I know they do. They talk, they stalk, they try—but let’s be clear, there’s only one me. I’m the blueprint, the one they measure themselves against.

Don't think I don't notice the girls who study me like I’m a whole syllabus, trying to decode the formula. But there isn't a blueprint for this—either you got it, or you don’t. And I got it.

And these men? These women? Losing their minds tryna be in my presence. I could sneeze, and somebody would cash app me just for existing. From bags to jewelry to whole-ass cars, they offer before I even ask. Billionaire sons? CEOs? Athletes? Begging. They know a once-in-a-lifetime when they see one.

Jealousy? Oh, it’s there. But I don’t compete, I dominate. The envy, the whispers, the imitation—it doesn't faze me. They can watch, they can study, but they can’t be me. I’m the prototype, the standard, the one they all wanna be but can’t touch.

This ain’t regular pretty. This is war-starting, history-making, legend-building beauty. The kinda face that gets songs written, statues built, kingdoms lost. Pretty privilege? Nah. Pretty power.

Other girls break their necks trying to figure out how it’s even possible for one woman to serve this much face, body, and energy. But let me tell you something, sweetie, when you’re me, you move differently. People might lose their minds over me, but my security is tighter than a vault—mentally, physically, spiritually, all that. You can’t touch me, even if you wanted to. The jealousy? Cute. The obsession? Predictable. But it never phases me. "The universe knows better than to let anyone try me, because when you’re this blessed, nothing bad can even get close. Call it divine protection or just the power of being that girl, but either way? I’m untouchable.

"Everybody wanna know me. Wanna be me. Wanna please me. They hold doors, pull out chairs, throw money just to get a second of my time. Even the haters can’t help but admire. They talk & they watch but they still losing. ‘Cause you can copy the outfit, the pose, the walk—but you can’t copy me.

I leave ‘em speechless, stuck, obsessed, weak-in-knees. "I got exes still crying, still checking my page, still hoping I look their way again. Love, I don’t double back, I level up. And these new ones? Willing to risk it all—careers, relationships, sanity—just for the chance to say my name.

You think I’m exaggerating? Ask your man why he’s been quiet. Ask your girl why she suddenly wanna switch teams. It’s me, bitch. IT’S ALWAYS ME. And if that’s annoying?? GOOD. BECAUSE A BITCH THIS PERFECT DESERVES TO BE LOUD ABOUT IT.