Sauce Walka & Peezy – Uh Uh Lyrics

Uh Uh Lyrics by Sauce Walka & Peezy

[Verse 1: Sauce Walka]
Skrrr, Trackhawk gon’ spin off
Baby set that ass, said she tryna get that rent off
Bro just got an aggravated charge, he at the big house
Pistol whip him til his jaw break, he got a big mouth
Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, fuck your baby daddy
Bitch you ain’t say that last week, when we was in his Caddy
Lil bro just got 20 years, had too much ice up in the baggy
White bitch look like Britney Spears, she choose to bing drop the addy
Ain’t nothin’ toxic but these diamonds in watches
Adam Sandler, waterboy, I ain’t drinkin’ out no faucet
Double blinds on the Maybach, them feds watching
Every time a nigga play with them birds an egg droppin’
Rob a hoe that’s payin’ me, I’m findin’ you
Tape the niggas lips together ask him who he lyin’ to
Drop his arm in the tank, make his head piranha food
Show come home with the bank, yeah that’s my kind of mood

[Chorus: Sauce Walka]
Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, my kind of mood
How you tryna give me head without no bread, that’s kinda rude
Louis V skates, double shoe strings, my kind of shoes
If you ain’t ridin’ with the switch on the splizzy, you tryna lose
Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, my kind of mood
Uh, Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, kinda rude
Uh, Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, ain’t tryna lose
Uh, Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, switcheroo

[Verse 2: Peezy]
Switcheroo up on these hoes like we in high school
She came through at night and give me brain, I call that night school
Every Friday I get me a check, I feel like Ice Cube
Me and Sauce, we got ten white bitches with us like we leaving Tycoons
I shoot videos inside my crib, don’t need a white room
Black and white, just like we watching belly, I got six bathrooms
Brody’nem done woke my bitch up, now she got an attitude
My young dawg need a pack or two, his face clean I’ll give it to him
You can see the they mood change, soon as I walk in the room
Know we got these niggas sick, they might need some chickens soup
She can’t fuck with me, ain’t got no paper, no, that shit ain’t cool
Send me 10k on CashApp, now that’s my type of mood

[Chorus: Sauce Walka]
Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, my kind of mood
How you tryna give me head without no bread, that’s kinda rude
Louis V skates, double shoe strings, my kind of shoes
If you ain’t ridin’ with the switch on the splizzy, you tryna lose
Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, my kind of mood
Uh, Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, kinda rude
Uh, Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, ain’t tryna lose
Uh, Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh, rrrrrah, switcheroo