City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in kiki minaj cop. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with kiki minaj cop,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“kiki minaj cop, kiki minaj cop, kiki minaj cop!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “kiki minaj cop” down on the streets fifty stories below.