BabyTron - Malibu’s Most Wanted lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - Malibu’s Most Wanted lyrics]
I just gotta hit that bitch
One more time though that bitch was so crazy
Hokatiwi like, damn
Ayy ayy, ayy, ayy
Smile while I shoot the Glock
The anger really in the bullet
I was Bébé every time I
Came and got a whooping
See my teacher out like, shit, I made it
Thought I couldn't
Bust my first scam at fourteen
I was made for jugging middle school
Was at the bus stop with a dumb knot
Blowing zas till my lungs stop
Or my blood clots
Heard that tick-tick, oh shit
You got that one watch?
Got that drip-drip, Balenciaga
These them one socks
Me and Stan touchdown, huh, Eli and Peyton
You can be Betty Crocker, bitch
I ain't got time for caking
Bro'll do him foul with the Tech
That's my type of flavor
Punched a hundred Apple Watchеs
Still ain't got the time for waiting
Worked sixty hours this week
How you got timе for hating?
Talking 'bout the sauce? Okay
Whole time he Plankton
This a motherfucking headshot
It ain't no time for Matrix
Hutch sent me to the ER
He got my sinus aching
You can get yo ass beat or
You can get yo ass shot
Thousand for a jack box
Ain't never touched a crack rock
Bro got a big K, he ride around on caps lock
Unc' the people's champ in the pot
He make the trap rock
Juke 12 out, hit they ass with a Shammgod
Bitch, leave me 'lone, I ain't tipping
Where's my lamb chops?
Walking with my brothers on the
Beach from the sandbox
Passed Stan the blicky
Told him shoot it like his hand hot
Chasing down the mailman
Running out my house shoes
I could up at least a fifty ball
That's without blues
Throw a bow to my brother
That's a Marc and Pau move
Eyes low as hell
The cookie hit me with a Yao move
If I call my Taliban
You gon' hear the sound "boom"
Life so backwards
Rainy days'll be the droughts too
Talking 'bout later, like, nah
I need it now, boo
'Wood loud as hell
Happy that the booth is soundproof
Untouched than a bitch, boy
I'm sick of death threats
I could be a dime short and
Wouldn't need yo ten cents
AR got a muscle on that fucker
I don't bench press keep switching sides
Fuck around and get the ref stretched
Ride around with 'Woods
We'll flip him like a Tech Deck
I'll put yo money on me
If you ain't bet yet
Only six people fit, oh, this a jet jet
Six hundred dollar thread
Count a thousand dollar bed set
Fit five thousand like, bitch
I'm just guesstimating bitch bougie
Want that crab legs with the extra Cajun
At this point I'm starting to think
That every bitch was made ungrateful
First punishment I made ten
Now I hate the cable
Whole year was off the punches
I ain't made a payment
Pillow talking-ass, catch you out like
"She made me say it"
Yeah, I talk to God but, shit, man
I ain't an angel
Upping dog shit, granny said
"That's gon' make 'em hate you"
Huh, like, shit, I'm finna make 'em hate me
I know how it feels being down
So I make 'em pay me
Drop a fake check in BOA and
Do the bank so crazy
I done came Glocky and Kenzo so
It's hard to tame me if I see the opps
I won't stop shooting till the army chase me
Hustle DNA, ain't got no feelings so it's
Hard to break me
Five thousand dollar work the Nike if
I slide the card at Macy's
A hundred rounder with the red
Dots so I'm hardly aiming
One more time though that bitch was so crazy
Hokatiwi like, damn
Ayy ayy, ayy, ayy
Smile while I shoot the Glock
The anger really in the bullet
I was Bébé every time I
Came and got a whooping
See my teacher out like, shit, I made it
Thought I couldn't
Bust my first scam at fourteen
I was made for jugging middle school
Was at the bus stop with a dumb knot
Blowing zas till my lungs stop
Or my blood clots
Heard that tick-tick, oh shit
You got that one watch?
Got that drip-drip, Balenciaga
These them one socks
Me and Stan touchdown, huh, Eli and Peyton
You can be Betty Crocker, bitch
I ain't got time for caking
Bro'll do him foul with the Tech
That's my type of flavor
Punched a hundred Apple Watchеs
Still ain't got the time for waiting
Worked sixty hours this week
How you got timе for hating?
Talking 'bout the sauce? Okay
Whole time he Plankton
This a motherfucking headshot
It ain't no time for Matrix
Hutch sent me to the ER
He got my sinus aching
You can get yo ass beat or
You can get yo ass shot
Thousand for a jack box
Ain't never touched a crack rock
Bro got a big K, he ride around on caps lock
Unc' the people's champ in the pot
He make the trap rock
Juke 12 out, hit they ass with a Shammgod
Bitch, leave me 'lone, I ain't tipping
Where's my lamb chops?
Walking with my brothers on the
Beach from the sandbox
Passed Stan the blicky
Told him shoot it like his hand hot
Chasing down the mailman
Running out my house shoes
I could up at least a fifty ball
That's without blues
Throw a bow to my brother
That's a Marc and Pau move
Eyes low as hell
The cookie hit me with a Yao move
If I call my Taliban
You gon' hear the sound "boom"
Life so backwards
Rainy days'll be the droughts too
Talking 'bout later, like, nah
I need it now, boo
'Wood loud as hell
Happy that the booth is soundproof
Untouched than a bitch, boy
I'm sick of death threats
I could be a dime short and
Wouldn't need yo ten cents
AR got a muscle on that fucker
I don't bench press keep switching sides
Fuck around and get the ref stretched
Ride around with 'Woods
We'll flip him like a Tech Deck
I'll put yo money on me
If you ain't bet yet
Only six people fit, oh, this a jet jet
Six hundred dollar thread
Count a thousand dollar bed set
Fit five thousand like, bitch
I'm just guesstimating bitch bougie
Want that crab legs with the extra Cajun
At this point I'm starting to think
That every bitch was made ungrateful
First punishment I made ten
Now I hate the cable
Whole year was off the punches
I ain't made a payment
Pillow talking-ass, catch you out like
"She made me say it"
Yeah, I talk to God but, shit, man
I ain't an angel
Upping dog shit, granny said
"That's gon' make 'em hate you"
Huh, like, shit, I'm finna make 'em hate me
I know how it feels being down
So I make 'em pay me
Drop a fake check in BOA and
Do the bank so crazy
I done came Glocky and Kenzo so
It's hard to tame me if I see the opps
I won't stop shooting till the army chase me
Hustle DNA, ain't got no feelings so it's
Hard to break me
Five thousand dollar work the Nike if
I slide the card at Macy's
A hundred rounder with the red
Dots so I'm hardly aiming