Song parody of
Fuck Da Bullshit
by Birdman
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Yeah cut it up, gimme a light
Yeah, and by the way, nigga it's Young Mula
First Lady ugh, yo, yo
Let us begin with a bad lil' specimen
Balenciagas, only things I be steppin in
Pucci bathing suit's
Only thing I'm dressing in
'Cause I get wetter than a navy seal veteran
Got Got 'em writin love
Letters in they jour-n-al
Keep 'em on they toes like
A midget at the urinal
Bad Bad Bad-Bad Bad Bad as I wanna be
She ain't bad, she a sad little wannabe
Yeah fuck the bullshit it's big
Money popping young Mula! yeah
Just like that what up, young
Nigga? Let's go gudda, brrrat!
Okay, we running this shit
When we walk in the building
Got bitches from wall to wall
Hoes hangin from the ceiling
Young Money we 'bout to kill 'em
I promise I make a million
And if they didn't have no hands I'll
Bet them bitches gon' feel 'em
I'm talkin money and power you
Getting money? I doubt it
Fresher than baby powder
With your bitch in the shower that pussy
I'ma devour I beat it up 'til it's sour
No need for you to even trip bitch
I'll be done in a hour, let's go
Yeah yeah, that's more like it
Junior!
They say the blacker the berry
The redder the cherry
I say the sweeter it is you dig? Buried
Then the bullshit varies, and it got me wary
But I know two are the same
Call it "murdered" and "married"
(Believe that)
Hustling is so necessary, with no adversaries
But ain't no love
Like a calendar with no Februarys
I'ma need four secretary
And four Bloody Marys
I'ma go eat me some pussy
And choke off the cherry I'm gone
Yeah, fully loaded with it
To the ceiling with it
More money than you ever seen, nigga!
Aight, Drizzy, Drake
Look, kill the game
No one recovers the murder weapon
Young Angel
If you hate me tell me burn in heaven
(Brrrrat) how'd ya sleep on me?
The highest earnin freshmen
Like your third infection
I hope you learned your lesson (yeah)
Yeah, I spit raw, but I prefer protection
I own a heart and a mind
And a shirt she slept in
Bitch, I got the answer
And still ain't heard the question
I shut your club down
Please reserve my section
Fuck a confrontation
There ain't no cake in it
And I'm caking, bitch
So tell me why I'd take a break from it
The mother of your child always
Tell you I'm her favorite
She call me her baby not the
One she was in labor with
She say, "Ooh, you taste good, " I say, "Ooh
Just savor it"
She know that she love a nigga
I be on that major shit
'Cause I get paid to stand
And I get paid to sit
So I don't walk around with money
Baby girl I'm made of it
Yeah cut it up, gimme a light
Yeah, and by the way, nigga it's Young Mula
First Lady ugh, yo, yo
Let us begin with a bad lil' specimen
Balenciagas, only things I be steppin in
Pucci bathing suit's
Only thing I'm dressing in
'Cause I get wetter than a navy seal veteran
Got Got 'em writin love
Letters in they jour-n-al
Keep 'em on they toes like
A midget at the urinal
Bad Bad Bad-Bad Bad Bad as I wanna be
She ain't bad, she a sad little wannabe
Yeah fuck the bullshit it's big
Money popping young Mula! yeah
Just like that what up, young
Nigga? Let's go gudda, brrrat!
Okay, we running this shit
When we walk in the building
Got bitches from wall to wall
Hoes hangin from the ceiling
Young Money we 'bout to kill 'em
I promise I make a million
And if they didn't have no hands I'll
Bet them bitches gon' feel 'em
I'm talkin money and power you
Getting money? I doubt it
Fresher than baby powder
With your bitch in the shower that pussy
I'ma devour I beat it up 'til it's sour
No need for you to even trip bitch
I'll be done in a hour, let's go
Yeah yeah, that's more like it
Junior!
They say the blacker the berry
The redder the cherry
I say the sweeter it is you dig? Buried
Then the bullshit varies, and it got me wary
But I know two are the same
Call it "murdered" and "married"
(Believe that)
Hustling is so necessary, with no adversaries
But ain't no love
Like a calendar with no Februarys
I'ma need four secretary
And four Bloody Marys
I'ma go eat me some pussy
And choke off the cherry I'm gone
Yeah, fully loaded with it
To the ceiling with it
More money than you ever seen, nigga!
Aight, Drizzy, Drake
Look, kill the game
No one recovers the murder weapon
Young Angel
If you hate me tell me burn in heaven
(Brrrrat) how'd ya sleep on me?
The highest earnin freshmen
Like your third infection
I hope you learned your lesson (yeah)
Yeah, I spit raw, but I prefer protection
I own a heart and a mind
And a shirt she slept in
Bitch, I got the answer
And still ain't heard the question
I shut your club down
Please reserve my section
Fuck a confrontation
There ain't no cake in it
And I'm caking, bitch
So tell me why I'd take a break from it
The mother of your child always
Tell you I'm her favorite
She call me her baby not the
One she was in labor with
She say, "Ooh, you taste good, " I say, "Ooh
Just savor it"
She know that she love a nigga
I be on that major shit
'Cause I get paid to stand
And I get paid to sit
So I don't walk around with money
Baby girl I'm made of it
