Yuck! (feat. Lil Wayne)

Yuck Daddy! Yuck! Yuck Daddy! Yuck! Uh, cut the top off, call it Amber Rose Just bought a big body Time to paint the toes Known to act a donkey on the camel-toe Then take the camel-toe And turn it into casserole 2 Chainz talkin' on the FLX phone Poof! Just like that the whole check gone Former Posturepedic I was slept on So many chains on it look Like my neck gone My girl came through and brought an extra body Now that's an after party For the after party Two-gun game All-black Ferrari His and her Armani Put it in a tonic And yeah, the bread good if the head good Before Benihana's it was canned goods Before canned goods It was Similac I'm from where they send shots Then we send 'em back A half a million dollars worth of crack money Wrap your parents up Now you got a black mommy Yeah I did it True to my religion Two guns on me Both with extensions If you on the pole Play your position I got enough dough to pay your tuition Corduroy Trues With the skull cap I just woke up Tell me where the drugs at And after the drugs Where the girls at And after the girls Where the love at And if it ain't no love I'm like fuck that Nigga I'm so dope You could catch a fuckin' contact Good weed, bad bitch Got these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt Woah, I seen it all before The bitch got a man But she schemin' on the low How it go? It go Fuck them other niggas cause I'm down for my niggas My homies got the blickers Automatics no clickers Huh? Codine, no liquor Man, life is a bitch Mine is a gold digger I'm fucked Let's fuck She said she on her period I said, "Yuck" I called another bopper I beat it like a copper Two big chain One big chopper, bitch I got the chopper for the cold response The codine got me standin' horizontal I had enough of the broken promises So I'm in a room full of Pocahontases And this shit is off the meat rack Weed sack, big car Layin' with my seat back We next, weed never left Holland, weed bag All this ice on my And my niggas playing freeze tag Lord forgive me This my fourth foreign If you baby daddy lame You should forewarn him I come through with the yapper on Turn that nigga Into hot bologna I'm the type a nigga cop a Rolly Cop a Benz, cop a two Then wear it all to Church Nigga Hallelu Uh, I'm from the trap where the block'll pay you Me and my nigga pass your ho like a hot potato I be like you could get her, he be like you could get her I be like you could have her, he be like you could have her He be like, it don't matter, I be like, me neither Uh, my old school got twenty-sixes on it And I got you girl kissin' on me Good weed, bad bitch Got these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt Woah, I seen it all before The bitch got a man But she schemin' on the low How it go? It go Fuck them other niggas cause I'm down for my niggas My homies got the blickers Automatics no clickers Huh? Codine, no liquor Man, life is a bitch Mine is a gold digger I'm fucked Let's fuck She said she on her period I said, "Yuck" I called another bopper I beat it like a copper Two big chain One big chopper, bitch Yuck Daddy! Yuck! Yuck Daddy! Yuck! Yuck-yuck-yuck Daddy! Two big chain, one big chopper Two big chain, one big chopper Two big chain, one big chopper Two big chain, one big chopper, bitch