BabyTron - Next Level lyrics

What up, Mark? (Ayo, Mark A)

In the UFO off moon rock
I might be a Martian 'Gelo and Lamelo
Me and D hitting threes in Charlotte
You won't see me out unless you
Catch me leaving Neiman Marcus
I'll flash a long-sleeve
Let me take the sleeve and park it
Coffee cup full of Wock' and pop
This ain't Tim Horton's
Before my face card was hot
I had been scorching steak fiend
This the third time this week I hit Morton's
Whip roaring, hopping out 'Iagas
Only drip foreign
Track one, step it, track one, swipe it
Road running, shoutout Yachty
Think that I'ma one night it
Scat Pack with the wasp, finna buzz by 'em
Where the tester at? I told your
Ass that these some Hutch diamonds
Woke up, made a dub
You ain't even brush your teeth yet
Hundred rounder just so he don't get
The chance to cheat death if I slide down
It's only gon' be some debris left
12 on the right, dumbass
You gotta swing left
What I learned is backdoors is
Something you can't leave open
Chopstick, every shot auto
Guess I'm free throwing
High as hell 'cause the weed
And the drink potent
Bumped into Peezy up in Hutch, he told me
"Keep going"

Hey hey

Told my akhi grab his turban
Time to firebomb some shit
If you ain't down to die in the ride
Then why you hopping in?
MacBook open, blowing 'Woods, finna politic
At Ruth's Chris
Heard you still take McDonald's trips
Match your four in his deuce
I just dropped a six buffs on
Pass some paper towel or some snot gon' drip
Ele' Delle Donne, you shoot a shot
My bitch gon' block your shit
I mean swat your shit
Taking off like a rocket ship
Mike Amiris skinny, thirty K
Now that's some thigh pads
Hating on the ShittyBoyz, well
You gon' die mad
Mister V12, fuck around and see me fly past
Told the plug I need the whole 'bow
You copping dime bags

What the fuck is going on nowadays?
What up, Hokatiwi? (It's Hokatiwi)
Hey, hey hey hey hey hey hey bitch
ShittyBoyz

Down in the A with a stick
Feel like Chipper Jones score first play
You the type to need a fifth and goal
Bitch got a dub in her Lulus
Got her pigeon toed sleeve Nash
Specialize in pick-and-rolls and give-and-gos
Reach for this chain, get him blew
Call him indigo spend it while I can
I don't know if I'm living long
Shoutout unky in the kitchen
Call him Mister Get-It-Gone
Mama said if you start weak
Gotta finish strong
I guess I took the shit and ran with it
Wouldn't start beef
That's the shit that had your mans missing
In the Land Rover going fast
Might not land in it if I miss a shot
I can guarantee that Stan hit it
I'm a living legend, you a poor bum
Why you talking shit? Better make
Sure them chores done
Scam god, ran it up by my fourth run
Christian Loubs got me sticking out
Like a sore thumb

(Jose the Plug, Primo Beats on the track)
What up, Jose? What up, Primo?
Hey, hey hey yeah, yeah, bitch hmm

In the black 'Cat, see me drive by
That's bad luck
Quarter of the Runtz, deuce of Wocky
I can't stand up
These the newest white buffs
You can ask Hutch stop flashing ten
I just did that off the last punch
Ksubis full of dog shit
I had to pull my pants up
Stop with the tough role just
Because your mans cut
Stop with the rich act
Flashing all your pop's money
I'll rip a thousand in your face
This ain't no prop money
Let me see that pint, dude
I think your Wock' funny
White Hanes in the Christian Loubies
Left the socks bloody
White tee from the liquor store, if you know
You know he won't even look me in the eyes
He a ho for sure
The way I'm balling 'round this bitch
I think I'm going pro
Before you hop up in the game
You better know the ropes
Riding with the tint 'cause I'm
Hip to all the jealousy living like a king
Never could you peasant me
Catching up to me in life, shit
Maybe eventually
I'm like a door you gotta pull
It ain't no pressing me

Phew yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm like a door you gotta pull
It ain't no pressing me
Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz dog Shit Militia
Phew, bitch