BabyTron - Crocs & Wock lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - Crocs & Wock lyrics]
Hunnid ball and all blues on me (Hmm)
Hunnid off, hehe, what up, Helly?
Yeah
Bitch, alright, back to it, huh
Hunnid ball in all- (Ahem)
Hunnid ball in- Huh, yeah
(Helluva made this beat, baby)
Hunnid ball in all blues on me
Bitch think I'm Crip
In the deep, great white
Don't think I'm shrimp
G-O-A-T, shit, bitch, I think I'm him
Gotta be ten plus with me to think I'm kin
We are not cousins, we are not nothing
Bitch, I'm tryna fuck, turn around
We are not hugging
If I hear it's up
Guarantee I got the Glock jumping
'Miris or the Ksubis or the PURPLE's
I don't rock Hudson's
Threw the beam on the Glock
'cause it comes in handy
Shot his legs off
He took the bag and tried to Running Man me
Hundred dollar plates every meal, bitch
My stomach fancy
I was young as hell loving pape'
You was in love with candy
I was young as hell masked up
Before Halloween
I was young as hell on that one shit
Counting cheese
I was young as hell on that court
Hoped they scouted me
Now, I'm balling on whoever once doubted me
Told the bitch get the fuck on
If she ain't throwing neck
Zaza, Turtle Pie, this ain't motor breath
Ten toes, bitch, I'm with the Reaper
All he know is step
Backwood full of Runtz, swear
I ain't joking
Neph'
Rapstar, walk around with a frozen neck
Reach for a chain
Hitman lay your soul to rest
Skinny motherfucker, buffs on
All I know is flex
Could've been a broke motherfucker
But I chose a check
Could've been poor, but I'm rich now
Turnt the city up
The first video on Richtown
Hip hop lab, big threats, bitch, I'm lit now
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
Don't get blicked down
Red beam on old dog nose, he a big clown
Unky moving through the 'bows
This his fifth pound
Thousand dollar sneaks
I'd take your ass to Drip Town
Hitman Mr. Headshot, you better get down
You better try and run and flee
You better tuck and duck
Big Bad Wolf
The Backwood finna huff and puff
Working magic with the Visas, Hufflepuff
In a spaceship, high as hell, finna hover up
Three of red
Turn my Mountain Dew into martian juice
Push the lil' button, finna start the coupe
This shit chess
So you better play your smartest move
Put that lil' gun down
You ain't got the heart to shoot
If we down two, I got a three in me
Bitch talk loose
I'm on her head like a beady bead
Y3 joggy, Kanye's, I got Adida feet
In the scam house, same block
You can see a fiend
Cous' in the trap
Fuck around with some P's of beans
Lil' lightskin
Pretty bitch like Alicia Keys
Ever get some real cheese?
Gotta feed your team
Wear Crocs on some millionaires
I'm just being me
Hehe, ayy, ShittyBoyz
What up, Helly?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, ShittyBoyz