Yummy Ayesha Erotica

[Intro]
Tum— edi-edi-edi-ed—
Du-du-du-du— tummy
Feeling edi-edi-edi-ed—
Du-du-du-du, —eeling
Feeling yummy, yummy
Yummy, yummy, my-my-my-my
My tummy feeling edi-edi-edi-ed—
Du-du-du-du—
Tummy feeling edi-edi-edi-ed—
Du-du-du-du— tummy
Feeling edi-edi-edi-ed—
Du-du-du-du, —eeling
Feeling yummy, yummy
Yummy, yummy, my-my-my-my
My tummy feeling edi-edi-edi-ed—
Du-du-du-du—

[Verse 1]
Tummy full of edible gummies, I'm feeling yummy
Juicy tracksuit whenever I'm feeling bummy
Big heels, got the Pleasers, I'm pleasing 'em, something funny
Baby Phat jizz rag whenever he's feeling cummy
Yeah, you bucktooth Beckies can't rhyme for shit
Heard your record and your lines sound just like his
See, the difference me and you, bitch, my shit hits
You're a size too big, bitch, and my shit fits
I'm the First Lady of Juicy Couture
Got a little cash now, so the skirt is Dior
And my lips look just like Amanda Lepore's
Now the kids out screaming "You were better before"
Before what? Bitch still snorting away
Still sipping Red Bull, 'bout a gallon a day
Still rocking chinchilla knowing I didn’t pay
Drop-top, pink coupe, bitch, get out of my way, ayy