BabyTron - Hustle Junkie lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - Hustle Junkie lyrics]
So many times I could've stayed
Down but got up
Bitch, yeah
ShittyBoyz (Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
So many times I could've stayed
Down but got up
Try something, got some Glocks tucked, pussy
Not us
Unky in the trap
Playing D till it's locked up
Forgot what time it is
Prolly 'cause my watch bust
That is not Runtz, put that 'Wood down
You is not tough
Why you tryna put yo foot down?
Damn near a milli' off the raps
I put the juggs down
Paranoid off the Perc'
Clutching while I look 'round
Twenty-three on me
Call this bitch "LeBron James"
And I got a choppa
Let it sing like it's Rod Wave
When I'm chilling
I just play the joggy off the Kanye's
Fourteen hunnid dollar Loubs like
It's prom day
Three thousand dollar outfit
Call me "André"
Thirty dollar eighthies
You don't really know how za taste
(You don't know)
Poured a two and fell asleep
That's a pop waste
Why the fuck you got shit to
Say and you ain't got pape'?
(What the fuck)
Looking crazy, with yo broke-ass
Lungs 'bout blacker than a bitch
I only smoke gas
Shit talker
Think my right pocket 'bout yo whole stash
I'm sick you out here down looking so bad
Backwood full of yeah, you be smoking nah
Got the blueprint to win but
I ain't coaching y'all
(Nah)
Wake up, lace 'em up, all I know is ball
I'm talking Track.2 euro stepping
I ain't no Gasol
(Euro stepping)
Woke up and dropped six like
I hit three jumpers
Big bankroll full of blues
You a green thumber
I might throw some pinks in this
Bitch to be a sleeve upper
Throw them ones away
You been playing 'em for three summers
Moncler bubble vest, hit for fifteen Benjis
Scat Packs, Hellcats, Trackhawks
Ain't seen Hemis
Ocean Prime or the Eddie V's
I ain't seen Denny's
Hitman on fully
Swear to God that he ain't seen semis
Buffs on
Blowing out O's like I'm Master Roshi
Pit stop, food truck, lobster in the macaroni
Lil' brodie bad as hell
Fucked around and crashed the stolie
I'll send an opp to Neptune
Got a blaster on me
High as hell
Floating in that spaceship like Captain Kirk
All your 201s dead, never seen no active work
Eight thousand dollar cash if you
Wanna grab a verse
Tell a bitch tryna talk to me
"Win a pageant first"
Two, five, eight, can't stop
I'm a hustle junkie
Two hundred clips, if I miss, boy
You double lucky
Stopping at the trap
Finna go and see what's up with unky
Supreme drip, T-shirt cost a couple hundy
You ain't seen what I seen, did what I did
(You haven't)
You ain't felt what I felt
Feel it in my ribs
Grown man money, next year
I'm building me a crib
(I swear)
Where the yeah at? Exotic pop
Chilling in the fridge
(Yeah)
Feeling like I'm him (Yeah)
If I hear it's up, shit
I'm sitting on the rim
Missed all his shots
Doggy need to get up in the gym
(What?)
.223s hit him in his hat, peel it by his brim
I'm a king, feel like Marvin Bagley
You can hear the demon in this
Bitch when I start the Chally
On the road
Finna stop and test one of
These cars at Rally's
Hall of Fame deadeye
Ain't no way that you guarding Stanley
Looking like an ice sculpture
Hutch got my kit dancing
Won't stop grinding till I'm chilling
In that big mansion
If I call them jack boys
They'll make yo shit vanish
Don't make me put the rap down
Go back to chip jamming
Yeah (Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
Down but got up
Bitch, yeah
ShittyBoyz (Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
So many times I could've stayed
Down but got up
Try something, got some Glocks tucked, pussy
Not us
Unky in the trap
Playing D till it's locked up
Forgot what time it is
Prolly 'cause my watch bust
That is not Runtz, put that 'Wood down
You is not tough
Why you tryna put yo foot down?
Damn near a milli' off the raps
I put the juggs down
Paranoid off the Perc'
Clutching while I look 'round
Twenty-three on me
Call this bitch "LeBron James"
And I got a choppa
Let it sing like it's Rod Wave
When I'm chilling
I just play the joggy off the Kanye's
Fourteen hunnid dollar Loubs like
It's prom day
Three thousand dollar outfit
Call me "André"
Thirty dollar eighthies
You don't really know how za taste
(You don't know)
Poured a two and fell asleep
That's a pop waste
Why the fuck you got shit to
Say and you ain't got pape'?
(What the fuck)
Looking crazy, with yo broke-ass
Lungs 'bout blacker than a bitch
I only smoke gas
Shit talker
Think my right pocket 'bout yo whole stash
I'm sick you out here down looking so bad
Backwood full of yeah, you be smoking nah
Got the blueprint to win but
I ain't coaching y'all
(Nah)
Wake up, lace 'em up, all I know is ball
I'm talking Track.2 euro stepping
I ain't no Gasol
(Euro stepping)
Woke up and dropped six like
I hit three jumpers
Big bankroll full of blues
You a green thumber
I might throw some pinks in this
Bitch to be a sleeve upper
Throw them ones away
You been playing 'em for three summers
Moncler bubble vest, hit for fifteen Benjis
Scat Packs, Hellcats, Trackhawks
Ain't seen Hemis
Ocean Prime or the Eddie V's
I ain't seen Denny's
Hitman on fully
Swear to God that he ain't seen semis
Buffs on
Blowing out O's like I'm Master Roshi
Pit stop, food truck, lobster in the macaroni
Lil' brodie bad as hell
Fucked around and crashed the stolie
I'll send an opp to Neptune
Got a blaster on me
High as hell
Floating in that spaceship like Captain Kirk
All your 201s dead, never seen no active work
Eight thousand dollar cash if you
Wanna grab a verse
Tell a bitch tryna talk to me
"Win a pageant first"
Two, five, eight, can't stop
I'm a hustle junkie
Two hundred clips, if I miss, boy
You double lucky
Stopping at the trap
Finna go and see what's up with unky
Supreme drip, T-shirt cost a couple hundy
You ain't seen what I seen, did what I did
(You haven't)
You ain't felt what I felt
Feel it in my ribs
Grown man money, next year
I'm building me a crib
(I swear)
Where the yeah at? Exotic pop
Chilling in the fridge
(Yeah)
Feeling like I'm him (Yeah)
If I hear it's up, shit
I'm sitting on the rim
Missed all his shots
Doggy need to get up in the gym
(What?)
.223s hit him in his hat, peel it by his brim
I'm a king, feel like Marvin Bagley
You can hear the demon in this
Bitch when I start the Chally
On the road
Finna stop and test one of
These cars at Rally's
Hall of Fame deadeye
Ain't no way that you guarding Stanley
Looking like an ice sculpture
Hutch got my kit dancing
Won't stop grinding till I'm chilling
In that big mansion
If I call them jack boys
They'll make yo shit vanish
Don't make me put the rap down
Go back to chip jamming
Yeah (Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)