text: 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
  Im in the hallway, dont need no hall pass
  If i eat it then everybody gonna order that
  Everything i do these bitches wishin theyda thought of that
  Im 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 club
  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