RMC Mike, BabyTron - Dookie Season lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[RMC Mike, BabyTron - Dookie Season lyrics]
(Damn, Machu
Why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
We sit around sparking 'Woods up but
This is not a camp rich got the peach Crush
Turned it to a lava lamp
Bust the SBA for fifty-five then
Do my Sada dance
Lil' bougie bitch with the grip
Pussy got some clamps
Dawg walked up a lil' too fast
I just shot a fan
Underwater fucking on yo bitch
I'm the Aquaman
I been getting money since niggas
Was selling five for ten
In the bay going hyphy
Watch a nigga ghost ride the Benz
I'ma jam the chip and slide
Never fucked with pots and pans
Stepping on shit with two straps
I'm the Prada Man dunking with the chop
Knock yo wig off like Juwanna Mann
In a blacked-out Suburban
Looking like Obama mans
Put the strap down and get knocked out
I got a lot of hands
When I was broke, I was lonely, now I'm up
I got a lot of friends
Told Tron to meet me at the booth
It's time to politic
Me and bro gon' fuck around and
Make some of the hottest shit
I swear to God, no cap
Sliding through the city with
A 30 like Ordóñez
Out of town, cheating on my bitch
Told her my phone dead
She see I'm balling like the NBA
She gave me pro head
Bust a nut, bitch kept going
Told her to go 'head
Give me 'bout fifteen more minutes
I want some more head
Sick of Sprite so I dropped a sixth
Of Wock' in a Code Red
Nigga, I'll kill my sister, uncle
Cousin for some old red
If I don't come the 'Miris or the Purples
I'ma Ksubi jean it
Would've hit yo bitch but she a rat
She need some coochie cleaning
Lil' bougie bitch gon' throw a
Fit unless the sushi seasoned
SB and RMC, we shitting
This the dookie season
Girly stay solid to my nigga
But the coochie cheating
Told a Wock' pint, "I love you"
And I truly mean it
Fat nigga, I can't wear Balmain
I'ma Gucci jean it
Me, BabyTron, and StanWill
We the Doonie Beaters
I see them sideburns growing in
You a coochie eater
You gave her four Percs just to fuck
You a coochie creeper
Back to them sideburns you got
You a booty eater
Could've punched the LV collection
But the Gucci cleaner
RMC Mike, BabyTron, we can't be stopped
Our cup is so motherfucking dark
It can't be pop
Unc' spent a thousand yesterday
He took auntie spot
I just bought a black-out, the same one got
Got a sixth sense with the scamming
I can smell juggs
45 pin him to the wall, this a nail gun
Four hundred dollars off of every twenty
I'm a jail plug
Bought my new bitch a big bag, the Chanel one
Thanksgiving dinner
Granny talking 'bout she smell Runtz
Tron got thirty cards on him now
I think he sell punch
Teachers didn't like me, if I could
I would've failed lunch
Bitch, I'm in the Lamb'
Put that old-ass Chevelle up
Why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
We sit around sparking 'Woods up but
This is not a camp rich got the peach Crush
Turned it to a lava lamp
Bust the SBA for fifty-five then
Do my Sada dance
Lil' bougie bitch with the grip
Pussy got some clamps
Dawg walked up a lil' too fast
I just shot a fan
Underwater fucking on yo bitch
I'm the Aquaman
I been getting money since niggas
Was selling five for ten
In the bay going hyphy
Watch a nigga ghost ride the Benz
I'ma jam the chip and slide
Never fucked with pots and pans
Stepping on shit with two straps
I'm the Prada Man dunking with the chop
Knock yo wig off like Juwanna Mann
In a blacked-out Suburban
Looking like Obama mans
Put the strap down and get knocked out
I got a lot of hands
When I was broke, I was lonely, now I'm up
I got a lot of friends
Told Tron to meet me at the booth
It's time to politic
Me and bro gon' fuck around and
Make some of the hottest shit
I swear to God, no cap
Sliding through the city with
A 30 like Ordóñez
Out of town, cheating on my bitch
Told her my phone dead
She see I'm balling like the NBA
She gave me pro head
Bust a nut, bitch kept going
Told her to go 'head
Give me 'bout fifteen more minutes
I want some more head
Sick of Sprite so I dropped a sixth
Of Wock' in a Code Red
Nigga, I'll kill my sister, uncle
Cousin for some old red
If I don't come the 'Miris or the Purples
I'ma Ksubi jean it
Would've hit yo bitch but she a rat
She need some coochie cleaning
Lil' bougie bitch gon' throw a
Fit unless the sushi seasoned
SB and RMC, we shitting
This the dookie season
Girly stay solid to my nigga
But the coochie cheating
Told a Wock' pint, "I love you"
And I truly mean it
Fat nigga, I can't wear Balmain
I'ma Gucci jean it
Me, BabyTron, and StanWill
We the Doonie Beaters
I see them sideburns growing in
You a coochie eater
You gave her four Percs just to fuck
You a coochie creeper
Back to them sideburns you got
You a booty eater
Could've punched the LV collection
But the Gucci cleaner
RMC Mike, BabyTron, we can't be stopped
Our cup is so motherfucking dark
It can't be pop
Unc' spent a thousand yesterday
He took auntie spot
I just bought a black-out, the same one got
Got a sixth sense with the scamming
I can smell juggs
45 pin him to the wall, this a nail gun
Four hundred dollars off of every twenty
I'm a jail plug
Bought my new bitch a big bag, the Chanel one
Thanksgiving dinner
Granny talking 'bout she smell Runtz
Tron got thirty cards on him now
I think he sell punch
Teachers didn't like me, if I could
I would've failed lunch
Bitch, I'm in the Lamb'
Put that old-ass Chevelle up