DaBoii, BabyTron - Chess Players lyrics
DaBoii [Wayman Barrow Jr.] Vallejo, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[DaBoii, BabyTron - Chess Players lyrics]
Bitch, yeah
Fuck, shit, damn
Huh, yeah (Tron, what we on, nigga?)
Nigga, on the gang
Three-five of Space Runtz
I'm floating like a astronaut
Twenty in my Ksubis
Finna walk inside Saks and shop
You talking big money shit but
You don't have a knot
Buffs white as hell
Same time got the blackest pop
Hunnid rounder, ahki sliding
Finna whack a opp
Two chains bust
Next month finna grab a watch
Gucci windbreaker, shoes
And the matching socks
If you in the field, young boy
You better grab a Glock
Yeah, if you in the field, young boy
You better grab straps
Chains wet, send them bad hoes
I been had that
I'll let off the first shot
And get the last laugh
And when I whip that big bitch out
Better back-back
Bitch keep telling me she miss me
With her sad-ass
Pull up on yo block like Lamar
Where the stash at?
I'll strip a nigga out his
Pockets and his Cash App
Bitch keep tryna suck my dick
Where the cash at?
"Purple" on the tag
How the fuck is my pants black?
Touchdown in Cali
Where the fuck is my Lamb' at?
Hunnid 201s, hit the store with a jam pack
What is in yo jeans right
Now? Fuck a flashback
Life double G, I just spent a sleeve in Gucci
Chopsticks right next to me
I ain't eating sushi
Checkmate, chess player
Finna put my feet in Louis
Backwood, Backwood, bitch
I ain't seen a doobie
3.5 in the 'Wood, I ain't seen a doob'
That nigga keep asking 'bout the
Opps, I ain't seen 'em
Dude
Backdoor me once and that's that
I can't see it through
"Boy, why you cut them niggas off?
", I ain't need 'em
Fool
Thought I had a drop on a opp but I seen [?]
If I mix the Qua' with the pop, bitch
That's Beetlejuice
That .9 on me, I'm in yo hood
I'm just breezing through
Yeah, that pussy nigga, he ain't make it
You ain't seen the news?
Pour three sixes back to back
I'm a evil dude
With my gang rocking Bathing Ape
We just swinging through
Cut the traction off in this fucker
I'll swing the coupe
Habibi, he the handy man, bitch
He bringing tools
Call Tron, "Boy, I'm in the D
Bring the tools out"
If I don't got that bitch on my hip
I don't move 'round
If we get the drop on yo ass, boy
Don't move now
Bitch keep lying 'bout some shit
That I knew about
Glock with the, if I flick this bitch
It's a fully
Six hunnid dollar shark head when
I zip the hoodie
Eighty dollar eighthy in the 'Wood
I ain't hitting Cookie
Unky in the kitchen with some
Finna whip some bully
I'm either off the tech or
The three stripe joggy
Thousand dollar double cup, no
This ain't iced coffee
Body on it but he still bought the .9 off me
Man, this ain't no regular-ass
J's, these Off-Whites
Doggy
This bitch got a whole ring
Get yo wife off me
Five bands and a pint, what yo life cost me
You gon' catch a bullet
Tryna take some ice off me
Call of Duty weapon, AR with the knife, doggy
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
Fuck, shit, damn
Huh, yeah (Tron, what we on, nigga?)
Nigga, on the gang
Three-five of Space Runtz
I'm floating like a astronaut
Twenty in my Ksubis
Finna walk inside Saks and shop
You talking big money shit but
You don't have a knot
Buffs white as hell
Same time got the blackest pop
Hunnid rounder, ahki sliding
Finna whack a opp
Two chains bust
Next month finna grab a watch
Gucci windbreaker, shoes
And the matching socks
If you in the field, young boy
You better grab a Glock
Yeah, if you in the field, young boy
You better grab straps
Chains wet, send them bad hoes
I been had that
I'll let off the first shot
And get the last laugh
And when I whip that big bitch out
Better back-back
Bitch keep telling me she miss me
With her sad-ass
Pull up on yo block like Lamar
Where the stash at?
I'll strip a nigga out his
Pockets and his Cash App
Bitch keep tryna suck my dick
Where the cash at?
"Purple" on the tag
How the fuck is my pants black?
Touchdown in Cali
Where the fuck is my Lamb' at?
Hunnid 201s, hit the store with a jam pack
What is in yo jeans right
Now? Fuck a flashback
Life double G, I just spent a sleeve in Gucci
Chopsticks right next to me
I ain't eating sushi
Checkmate, chess player
Finna put my feet in Louis
Backwood, Backwood, bitch
I ain't seen a doobie
3.5 in the 'Wood, I ain't seen a doob'
That nigga keep asking 'bout the
Opps, I ain't seen 'em
Dude
Backdoor me once and that's that
I can't see it through
"Boy, why you cut them niggas off?
", I ain't need 'em
Fool
Thought I had a drop on a opp but I seen [?]
If I mix the Qua' with the pop, bitch
That's Beetlejuice
That .9 on me, I'm in yo hood
I'm just breezing through
Yeah, that pussy nigga, he ain't make it
You ain't seen the news?
Pour three sixes back to back
I'm a evil dude
With my gang rocking Bathing Ape
We just swinging through
Cut the traction off in this fucker
I'll swing the coupe
Habibi, he the handy man, bitch
He bringing tools
Call Tron, "Boy, I'm in the D
Bring the tools out"
If I don't got that bitch on my hip
I don't move 'round
If we get the drop on yo ass, boy
Don't move now
Bitch keep lying 'bout some shit
That I knew about
Glock with the, if I flick this bitch
It's a fully
Six hunnid dollar shark head when
I zip the hoodie
Eighty dollar eighthy in the 'Wood
I ain't hitting Cookie
Unky in the kitchen with some
Finna whip some bully
I'm either off the tech or
The three stripe joggy
Thousand dollar double cup, no
This ain't iced coffee
Body on it but he still bought the .9 off me
Man, this ain't no regular-ass
J's, these Off-Whites
Doggy
This bitch got a whole ring
Get yo wife off me
Five bands and a pint, what yo life cost me
You gon' catch a bullet
Tryna take some ice off me
Call of Duty weapon, AR with the knife, doggy
Ayy, ShittyBoyz