BabyTron, G.T., StanWill, BandGang Biggs, The Godfather - Biggs Out lyrics

BabyTron [ames Edward Johnson II] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.

[BabyTron, G.T., StanWill, BandGang Biggs, The Godfather - Biggs Out lyrics]

Ayy, yeah, come on
(I just walked in too, nigga)
It's GT, nigga
(This shit off the dome, nigga)
Ayy, nigga, what up?
(Let’s get this shit in, nigga)
Ayy, nigga (Big songs, nigga, let's go) ayy

I heard they let Biggs out
Call bring the BINs out
Whip so fast, tap it and it spin out
I remember they was young as hell
Nigga whip a ten out
True Religion nigga, at yo bitch house
White, nigga, let me get it in
Flowing when I stop, they spin
Next week probably in Miami in a
I ain't even got no beef, all the opps dead
Come through all black but the guts red
Bro, I only call yo bitch when I want head
And if you ever think we sweet
You gon’ catch lead
Could've jumped in the 'Cat but
I took the Benz buffs cost four flat
That's without the lens
Y'all niggas bunch of followers and
We set the trend

On the East I just caught a play
Where the fuck is GT?
Spin yo block like a record or a CD
Coming back to back like that Drake
Song but I ain't sign nothing
Chopstick flip the crib
Tryna rewind something
Ice on, stomp yo head in
I catch you eyeing something
Chase you down on the freeway
We on the lodge busting
Ham called me tryna buy a pint
I sold him Robitussin
We got a problem? Ain't no talking
It ain't no discussion

Dropped a diss song? I dropped a chain
I don’t battle rap
Account with the pin, this shit easy
Catching Apple jacks
When I grab my punch off the site
I’m attacking Saks
Driving off the Wock' wasn’t smart
I done crashed the Scat
We'll send him to the moon
The chop came with NASA blast
Punching up a card
Told my bitch keep the door close
You got that one whip
That bitch don't even got no sports mode
He thought he caught me slipping
Whole time I had the torch though
Another four pore
Fuck around and get my snore on

We in this bitch busting down
Keep the door closed
Hit a nigga block, hundred shots
It's for closure we don’t know you
Tryna come and shop then I'm getting over
Free smoke, inhaling everything
You know we keep them blowers
Wake up, drop a eight in this pop
I hate being sober
Quick to grab the chop or the
Glock and get shit in motion
Them bows in, touching down to 'em
Get 'em straight from Oakland
Them hoes in, just to fuck this bitch
Gotta give up tokens

Ayy, if I step foot in Meijer's
Then you know I'm giffy grabbing
Fuck around, throw the blick to Tron
I might have Jimmy wack 'em
I can't take the gang to no occasion
They get blicky active
Born a GOAT, I might be Stan but, bitch
I'm Billy actually
Took the chop to Dr miami
It got some titties on it
Only ride with G's in my unit
Feel like I'm 50 on 'em
Pistol poking through the 'Miri jeans
I got the blicky on me
Off White with the camouflage
I got a ghillie on me huh, yeah

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