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, dont 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 

I'ma take it take it off 

I'ma take it to the club 

Then ima take it to the log 

I'ma take it to my niggas, I'ma take it to the boss 

I'ma giggle it giggle it 

Bakin soda soft 

I'ma put it in ya face, I'ma 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