Yuck!

Album: Based On A T.R.U. Story (2012)
Charted: 80
  • Yuck, daddy
    Yuck, daddy

    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 flex 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 gang, all-black Ferrari
    His and her Armani, put it in her tummy
    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
    Whoa, 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? Codeine, 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

    Yeah, I got the chopper for the correspondents
    The codeine 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, we ain't never left, hollerin' "we back"
    All this ice on me and my niggas playing freeze tag
    Lord, forgive me, this my fourth foreign
    If your 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 tool
    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 hoe 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, mwah

    Good weed, bad bitch
    Got these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt
    Whoa, 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? Codeine, 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 Writer/s: Nicholas Warwar, Michael Aiello, Matthew Burnett, Dwayne Carter, Tauheed Epps
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., SHELLY BAY MUSIC, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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