BabyTron - Apollo Creed lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - Apollo Creed lyrics]
(Getta Beats) ayy, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz
So much bottled up
Time to fuck the throttle up
If he won't throw a shot at the opps
He can't rock with us
Where yo baby mama at? I'm
Tryna get it swallowed up
Creed X Turtle Pie make the bitches follow us
Till I had a blue check
Bitches wouldn't follow me
I'ma die punching through this
Bitch like Apollo Creed
Bitches I stick my dick in, boy
They out yo league
Keeping up with me? That's like
Jumping without yo knees better yet
That's like walking without yo feet
You laying on a futon
I'm somewhere walking on the beach
I'ma need 1K, I'm not talking for the free
He was talking out his ass
Now he's talking to my feet
Don't shit last forever but the
Money in my pocket hakeem Olajuwon, bitch
I'm coming in with rockets
If we don't stomp him, we gon' pop him
If we stomp him, we gon' roll
223s make his funky-ass Pop, Lock & Drop It
Bitches tryna take pictures
You are not paparazzi
If the gang not around me then
The fucking choppa got me
Thinking that he balling? Fuck around and
Leave him stuck like Rodney
Feel like Ricky Bobby, yes
Her teeth is not a Maserati
Sent my bitch in with a punch
She like Ronda Rousey
Flying 'round with that iron on me, bitch
I'm Robert Downey
If it's money on yo head then it's death
It's not a bounty
This a four of Wockhardt in my cup
I'm sounding drowsy
That's what yo ham-ass'll say after
We K word you
Beam on a super charge Glock, we'll Halo you
How the fuck are you the
Plug and you ain't mobile?
This moon rock a motherfucker
Got me up in space floating
Everybody 'round me look foreign
Feel like Mark Cuban
No love like a robot, am I part human?
She heard one lil' song
Then she start choosing
When you got the BIN that I got, yeah
Yo car's boosting huh, and yo car fool
Yo big-ass gang got one whip
That's why yo car full
Damn, choppa make 'em cartwheel
Twenty-three off the blues
Balling like a Tar Heel
You look soft in that BAPE, boy
My sharks kill i done been through some shit
And ain't a part heal
If the fucking Visa don't hit
The Mastercard will
All that motherfucking dick sucking
I'm a star still
If I catch you out talking shit
I'ma whoop yo ass
If Stan catch an opp with the blick
He gon' cook his ass
Just got in a parking lot brawl
And I Suge'd his ass
Just went Vin Diesel on 12
And I shook they ass
Hut one, hut two, I just scored a touchdown
They got the sad face, boy
They mad as fuck I'm up now
She used to be a spinner, that shit crazy
She a slut now
Big drip cause a hurricane if I jump 'round
Come on, I got some shit to say
The old me dead and gone
I feel like Justin Timberlake
I ain't a shrimp but I get shrimp
When I get it with the steak
I think I need a QP
I like the lemon pepper taste
I can fly a bitch wherever like whenever
Off White, Balenciaga, look better together
This Alexander, yes
I'm just flexing the sweater
If you really want smoke, okay
I'm pressing whether
Ayy
So much bottled up
Time to fuck the throttle up
If he won't throw a shot at the opps
He can't rock with us
Where yo baby mama at? I'm
Tryna get it swallowed up
Creed X Turtle Pie make the bitches follow us
Till I had a blue check
Bitches wouldn't follow me
I'ma die punching through this
Bitch like Apollo Creed
Bitches I stick my dick in, boy
They out yo league
Keeping up with me? That's like
Jumping without yo knees better yet
That's like walking without yo feet
You laying on a futon
I'm somewhere walking on the beach
I'ma need 1K, I'm not talking for the free
He was talking out his ass
Now he's talking to my feet
Don't shit last forever but the
Money in my pocket hakeem Olajuwon, bitch
I'm coming in with rockets
If we don't stomp him, we gon' pop him
If we stomp him, we gon' roll
223s make his funky-ass Pop, Lock & Drop It
Bitches tryna take pictures
You are not paparazzi
If the gang not around me then
The fucking choppa got me
Thinking that he balling? Fuck around and
Leave him stuck like Rodney
Feel like Ricky Bobby, yes
Her teeth is not a Maserati
Sent my bitch in with a punch
She like Ronda Rousey
Flying 'round with that iron on me, bitch
I'm Robert Downey
If it's money on yo head then it's death
It's not a bounty
This a four of Wockhardt in my cup
I'm sounding drowsy
That's what yo ham-ass'll say after
We K word you
Beam on a super charge Glock, we'll Halo you
How the fuck are you the
Plug and you ain't mobile?
This moon rock a motherfucker
Got me up in space floating
Everybody 'round me look foreign
Feel like Mark Cuban
No love like a robot, am I part human?
She heard one lil' song
Then she start choosing
When you got the BIN that I got, yeah
Yo car's boosting huh, and yo car fool
Yo big-ass gang got one whip
That's why yo car full
Damn, choppa make 'em cartwheel
Twenty-three off the blues
Balling like a Tar Heel
You look soft in that BAPE, boy
My sharks kill i done been through some shit
And ain't a part heal
If the fucking Visa don't hit
The Mastercard will
All that motherfucking dick sucking
I'm a star still
If I catch you out talking shit
I'ma whoop yo ass
If Stan catch an opp with the blick
He gon' cook his ass
Just got in a parking lot brawl
And I Suge'd his ass
Just went Vin Diesel on 12
And I shook they ass
Hut one, hut two, I just scored a touchdown
They got the sad face, boy
They mad as fuck I'm up now
She used to be a spinner, that shit crazy
She a slut now
Big drip cause a hurricane if I jump 'round
Come on, I got some shit to say
The old me dead and gone
I feel like Justin Timberlake
I ain't a shrimp but I get shrimp
When I get it with the steak
I think I need a QP
I like the lemon pepper taste
I can fly a bitch wherever like whenever
Off White, Balenciaga, look better together
This Alexander, yes
I'm just flexing the sweater
If you really want smoke, okay
I'm pressing whether
Ayy