Yuck! (Workout Remix) - Workout Remixers

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 guns where the love at

And if it ain't no love I'm like f**k that

Ni**a I'm so d**e you could

Catch a f**kin' contact

Good w**d bad b**ch

Got these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt

Woah I seen it all before

The b**ch got a man but she schemin' on the low

How it go It go f**k 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 b**ch mine is a gold digger

I'm f**ked let's f**k

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 b**ch

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 sh*t is off the meat rack

W**d sack big car layin' with my seat back

We next w**d never left Holland w**d 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 ni**a into hot bologna

I'm the type a ni**a cop a Rolly

Cop a Benz cop a two

Then wear it all to Church ni**a Hallelu

Uh I'm from the trap where the block'll pay you

Me and my ni**a 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 w**d bad b**ch

Got these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt

Woah I seen it all before

The b**ch got a man

But she schemin' on the low

How it go It go f**k 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 b**ch mine is a gold digger

I'm f**ked let's f**k

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 b**ch

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 b**ch