BabyTron, Lando Bando, The Hip Hop Lab - Jugg And Punch lyrics

It's Lando, yo bitch know, don't
Let yo bitch go, nigga
Bitch

Picking steak out my teeth, I'm at STK
I'ma go fed if I really talk them SBAs
Team full of ballers
Every day them boys text me plays
Steer with my right out the window
It's a lefty day
I'll turn the hard in, unky cook it up
ShittyBoyz, it's a big bag
You think 'bout booking us
How is you the plug? Never took
The cord and hooked it up
Pretty lil' classy bitch
I won't even look at sluts
Net worth ain't accurate
Won't even look it up
He in the 'Cat, nine lives
Ten shots shook him up mC Scammer
Had some BINs that they couldn't touch
Told him I'll do this
Shit, I'm thinking like, i wouldn't what?
Really all I knew before the
Rap was jugg and punch
Me and Stan OT, MacBook full of dumps
Windmill and back for thе times
When I couldn't dunk
On the phonе like, I gotta go
I'm finna pull in Hutch
Triangle, square, circle, L1, cheat coding
Touchdown, Marshawn Lynch, bitch
I'm beast moding stop playing, bitch
I'm like Curry when the three open
Think the reason that I'm working
Magic 'cause I drink potion
ShittyBoyz, shit talking, this is what I do
Real playmaker, same gang, get a couple oops
Walk you to the water
What you do? That shit up to you
Blue, pink, green, rainbow
What I'm thumbing through
Hot as hell out, droptop
I ain't coming roof
Oldhead talking out his neck
Get yo uncle blew
Club deep as hell, Track 2s
I might stumble through
Talk shit and we'll back it up
We the Plunger Crew slide vet
I'll teach you magic like I'm Dumbledore
"BabyTron" on the 'Gram
Don't forget the underscores
Backwoods only
What the fuck you roll a funnel for?
If I throw a hundred in the club
Could throw a hundred more
Hmm, don't make me go and do it
You twenty-three with gray hairs? You
Must be going through it
Why you bragging 'bout lil' shit when
You 'posed to do it?
Would've thought it's aimbots around
We be so focused shooting
350, 700, shit, I'm just Yeezy stepping
Fireman, every line a punch
I'm just Weezy F-ing
Chess player, twenty moves ahead
I'ma keep 'em guessing
Backdoored yo mans, oh, bitch
You like sneaky seconds
Huh, foreign bitch with the fleaky nails
I ain't leaving home till that
One truck bring me mail
Forty deep, twenty dirty sticks, half CPLs
On my way to the top
Won't let them see me fail
I could, I could, I could, damn
The Runtz got me stuttering
Fuck tryna make it rain
I'ma have it thundering check run
Made a easy fifty out of Huntington
Palm Angels cheetah sweat suit
What I'm running in

Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz