BabyTron - Green Lantern lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - Green Lantern lyrics]
(Esko, No way, Hozay)
Huh, yeah
Heard it's snakes in the grass, I got a
Bitch yeah
Heard it's snakes in the grass
I got a weed whacker
Every piece hitting in the store
I'm the Green Lantern
No, for real, made ten off of three smackers
Road running OT
It's fuckin with my sleep pattern
Used to hate when the chain on my bike pop
Now it's widebody, do the dash
I'm living life now
Went to Hutch off top, fuck an Icebox
In the Windy City
Sticks on us like the White Sox
Thank God 'cause back then
I ain't have much
Why the fuck style biters tryna swag munch?
Used to crack jokes, seen him out
He ain't laugh once
Talking 'bout you smoke za
You ain't never had Runtz
In the rental, i-12 hooked up to the CarPlay
If I see them blue and red lights
It's a car chase
Shoot MIA, living life like I'm Scarface
Leave a bitch sick, boy
I specialize in heartbreaks
Dropping red in the Sprite
This ain't a Shirley Temple
Shoot here, shoot there
I done ran through thirty rentals
Caught him at the red light
He tried to work the pedal
Dog need a tetanus shot
Hit him with some dirty metal
Fuck, get him out of there
Feel like Jordin Sparks, three-five, bitch
I'm out of air get the head
Then I'm walking out without a care
White buffs, mirror tint, boy
Your bitch bound to stare
Hitting hoes, see more butts than an ash tray
Going out like Mike
Bet I win it on my last game
Shitty charm bust and I can't
Forget The Lab chain
How I'm feeling, fuck an RT
I want that Lamb thing
How I'm feeling, fuck a mil' ticket
Want a billion
Yeah, I heard his song, truth is
That ain't really him
If you ain't scam, fam, no
You can't get Jimmy BIN
Group of hoes see me, all I heard is
"Is that really him?"
Spit fire in the booth, I only drop gems
You typed a tough-ass paragraph
And did not send
You a role player, at the most
You gon' drop ten
Hardbody, bitch, I won't break
I cannot bend two hundred dollar tip to make
Up for my table manners
Pull up on your bitch, get in her walls
I'ma cable man her
A hundred rounder, boom, boom
Bet we made 'em scatter
He tried to run off and get
Ghost and became a Casper
On a Samsung punching Apple products
Bitch, you better shut up 'fore
I scam your mama
Let me talk my shit, lil' bitch
I ain't have a dollar
Pink Runtz, pink Triple S, yeah
It match the 'Iagas high as hell
Blowing clouds like a comic book
Pull up with a skillet on the
Shh and we got 'em cooked
Whole pack of 'Woods through
How the fuck that fronto look?
Shit talker, boy, this ain't got no hook
Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz
Huh, yeah
Heard it's snakes in the grass, I got a
Bitch yeah
Heard it's snakes in the grass
I got a weed whacker
Every piece hitting in the store
I'm the Green Lantern
No, for real, made ten off of three smackers
Road running OT
It's fuckin with my sleep pattern
Used to hate when the chain on my bike pop
Now it's widebody, do the dash
I'm living life now
Went to Hutch off top, fuck an Icebox
In the Windy City
Sticks on us like the White Sox
Thank God 'cause back then
I ain't have much
Why the fuck style biters tryna swag munch?
Used to crack jokes, seen him out
He ain't laugh once
Talking 'bout you smoke za
You ain't never had Runtz
In the rental, i-12 hooked up to the CarPlay
If I see them blue and red lights
It's a car chase
Shoot MIA, living life like I'm Scarface
Leave a bitch sick, boy
I specialize in heartbreaks
Dropping red in the Sprite
This ain't a Shirley Temple
Shoot here, shoot there
I done ran through thirty rentals
Caught him at the red light
He tried to work the pedal
Dog need a tetanus shot
Hit him with some dirty metal
Fuck, get him out of there
Feel like Jordin Sparks, three-five, bitch
I'm out of air get the head
Then I'm walking out without a care
White buffs, mirror tint, boy
Your bitch bound to stare
Hitting hoes, see more butts than an ash tray
Going out like Mike
Bet I win it on my last game
Shitty charm bust and I can't
Forget The Lab chain
How I'm feeling, fuck an RT
I want that Lamb thing
How I'm feeling, fuck a mil' ticket
Want a billion
Yeah, I heard his song, truth is
That ain't really him
If you ain't scam, fam, no
You can't get Jimmy BIN
Group of hoes see me, all I heard is
"Is that really him?"
Spit fire in the booth, I only drop gems
You typed a tough-ass paragraph
And did not send
You a role player, at the most
You gon' drop ten
Hardbody, bitch, I won't break
I cannot bend two hundred dollar tip to make
Up for my table manners
Pull up on your bitch, get in her walls
I'ma cable man her
A hundred rounder, boom, boom
Bet we made 'em scatter
He tried to run off and get
Ghost and became a Casper
On a Samsung punching Apple products
Bitch, you better shut up 'fore
I scam your mama
Let me talk my shit, lil' bitch
I ain't have a dollar
Pink Runtz, pink Triple S, yeah
It match the 'Iagas high as hell
Blowing clouds like a comic book
Pull up with a skillet on the
Shh and we got 'em cooked
Whole pack of 'Woods through
How the fuck that fronto look?
Shit talker, boy, this ain't got no hook
Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz