BabyTron - Mr.ReRock lyrics

(Hokatiwi) yeah (ShittyBoyz)

Spent eight on a French
Now my bitch want a poodle
I'ma keep the stick tucked
I ain't even got a shooter
Got a couple hitmen that
Specialize in opp removal
You the type to go say you
Sliding and not go do it
She just gave me head till my
Toes cracked and knees locked
Zombie to the lil' bitch
She gon' have to detox
One item, made him pay twice
I'm Mister Re-Rock
We could be last in the standings
Wouldn't team hop
Bitch caught me cheating with
Her friеnd like, "Who head bettеr?"
Name hold heavy weight on it
I'm a bench presser
When the wintertime comes
I'm a Nike tech dresser tap the card in
It's scam if she press enter
You don't punch, you just talk about it
You like Joe Rogan
Run it up fast, you be jogging
You in slow motion
He don't ever get no pussy
We gon' put the hoes on him
That is not no real money if the roll folding
Run it up, he can't keep up
Where's his Gatorade?
You a dick sucker, woke up drinking Hatorade
Finna come roll big clock
Like I'm Flavor Flav
For two thousand dollars
I'll show you how to drain a bank
For three thousand dollars
You can get a verse with the vid
For four thousand dollars, get him murked
Knock him off the grid
Need five thousand if you tryna
Work with my BIN
Six jacks, 6K, I'm turnt when I turn 'em in
First class Delta and I'm shooting out of
The way he keep a stick in the city
I think Stan's Cabrero
Think yo lil' bitch wanna cheat
'cause her ass be staring
I ain't say the trap dead
But it's the scammer era
MacBook open, Backwood rolling
Three minutes later
Now I'm Backwood smoking
Back to that MacBook, I crack juggs on it
Punch a lil' bitch a bag if
She act good for it her head so mean
Why I got a smile on my face?
Don't miss the second wave
Better file every state
"Real Punch Champ"
That's a title you cannot take
Shooter got flavor
Should he grab the rifle or the Drac'?
Paid too hunnid dollars just to
Bite into the steak
Three-five of Guava Cake
Now I'm flying into space
Quickest way to get cut off
Is lying to my face
If you see me out then I'm
Probably driving to the bank
Yeah, you ate at Fleming's but
You couldn't leave a tip
Really what a bitch need
I won't never need a bitch
You might get confirmations but you
Never seen 'em ship
Rap now but I can get back on my Visa shit
Blew ten kicks, Y-3, Adidas fit
Sent yo bitch to the Coney
On a chicken pita trip
Pull up, sub you out, on my Jim Leyland shit
Unc' Triple A, pull up if you need a fix
Hack this, hack that, I be cracking firewalls
Walk into the store like, "Ma'am
I'm tryna buy 'em all"
Whole time I got a blank card
Finna slide 'em all if she calls the boss
I'm running out and then I'm driving off
That's Gorilla Glue #4
You ain't high at all
You don't really live that shit at
All, you just type it, dawg
4K in Hutch, buffs whiter than some Tylenol
Got my balance to a ninety-nine
Ain't got time to fall

Yeah, bitch, yeah
Got my balance to a ninety-nine
Ain't got time to fall
Huh, ain't got time to fall
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz
Her head so mean
Why I got a smile on my face?
Don't miss the second wave
Better file every state
"Real Punch Champ"
That's a title you cannot take
Shooter got flavor
Should he grab the rifle or the Drac'?
Paid too hunnid dollars just to
Bite into the steak
Three-five of Guava Cake
Now I'm flying into space
Quickest way to get cut off
Is lying to my face
If you see me out then I'm
Probably driving to the bank