BabyTron - Extra Butter lyrics

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

[BabyTron - Extra Butter lyrics]

(Ayo, Mark A)

Exotic smoker
Foreign sneaks cost like three ounces
RIP Bernie Mac, swinging sticks, Mr. 3000
Road running, phone on 1X
I can see mountains
Doggy talking too tough
I'm finna see 'bout it
Going 180, driving blowed
I should seatbelt it
Red bottoms, bitch, I'm lava stepping
Think my feet melting
Tryna win, you need a team
You can't be selfish
Five hundred dollar pop, eating rice
So I keep belching
If you put your mind to it, yeah
It's possible
Track and field Supreme pants
Hurdled every obstacle
Going MIA, shit
I'm talking where it's tropical
Get him knocked off
He touch a hair or a follicle
Catch up to me? Shit, that's impossible
Improbable, chance is very astronomical
Better back back
Swear to God that the chopper full
All the scam alerts nowadays, we responsible
Russian Draco knock you out
Like it's Ivan Drago
Spray some Creed on, then go and punch
I feel like Apollo
Backwood, Backwood
I don't get high with frontos
Talking 'bout some punchlines
But you got a nine like Rondo
You need some new bars
What the fuck is that noise?
You need a new car
What the fuck is that piece?
You need a new charm
White buffalos
Four thousand for these two arms
Good Essentia, water purified
Talking 'bout a dub
You ain't nowhere even near a five
Punch God, grab three jacks
Then go and clear the lines
Talking 'bout some Wock'
But your fridge had some beer inside
Fuck a Budweiser, three-five and the bud fire
The real source
Fuck around and get your plug fired
I just call it how I see it like an umpire
4 AM, fifty ball
I'm just countin' up tired
Remember sneakin' out the crib
On some bullshit
Out late ridin', everybody had a full clip
Do the dash like, "If you see the hook
Dip"
But every time we touch down
That's a good skit
Feel like Bruce Leroy when he had the glow
In that one bag, MacBook in here
Cracking codes
Stop talking 'bout the scams
You ain't active
Bro
Stop asking 'bout the bag or I'm taxing, ho
Fuck, shit
Fucked around and left the car wrecked
Why this bitch talking crazy 'fore
She put on Carmex?
Scam vet', punching drip up on Farfetch
You twenty-six and you still don't
Have a car yet?
Why you at the bus stop?
Had to beat his ass 'fore I shot him
Hate a tough opp
Ballin' now 'cause back in high school
Ain't get enough clock
Got away from rock bottom, shit
Now I'm up top

Bernie! Bernie!
What?
Ayy, man, would you mind popping us
Some popcorn? With extra butter
A little salt
Anything else?
Yeah, some of that cheesy spray
If you got some
"Some of that cheese spray, if you got it"
Some folks don't know when to go home
Man
What the-?
Who in the hell bit off this pear
And put it back in the basket?

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