You need a future daddy
Give me my petter pan
When I hit the club it will be me an my conceited friend
Been signing autographs
Since like a quarter past
I'm in the hallway, don't need no hall pass
If I eat it then everybody gonna order that
Everything I do these bitches wishin they'da thought of that
I'm a indian giver I want the quarter back
If hip hop was dead, bitch I just brought her back
Take it to the off
Ima take it take it off
Ima take it to the clu
Then ima take it to the log
Ima take it to my niggas, ima take it to the boss
Ima giggle it giggle it
Bakin soda soft
Ima put it in ya face, ima pt it in ya braids
The way I make it pop, you can put me in the space
Make it rain as a ten thousand dollar day
Poppin like champaign on a holiday