BabyTron - On You lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - On You lyrics]
It's it, man
Different Breed the mixtape, man
I know y'all been waiting on
This shit but I got to it
It's BabyTron in this bitch
Youngest nigga with a roll ha, yep
Turn around, turn around like a roundabout
Fuck you, bitch
Where was you when I was down and out?
Yo bitch on the phone with
You while I'm pounding out after I hit
She on the side like she grinding out
Now let me show you
What them thousands 'bout
Upping rolls on the 'Gram
You can count it out
I used to be broke but then
A nigga found it out
These Margielas, baby girl
Just try and sound it out good strips on me
She asked did I hit the Powerball
Nah, I just hit the road and
Came back with a twenty ball
Paid three for the shirt
That's a 'Gelo Ball
Two sticks on my hip like I'm Darth Maul
Hop in the whip and hit the
Road in a Nike fit
I got them pieces on me fucking up I96
Dumb ho call me broke? I'll
Thrust on that grimy bitch
Scammed a lady out her house rent
On some slimy shit
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you
Ayy, bro
We gotta score like it's fourth and go
And if you get in the way
Just know I got a pole
Seen a lot of shit in my
Life that done hurt my soul
But you never know
I stay smiling with a onion roll
Got a white boy with that
Shit down in Brighton
Do I look like Floyd? We got chops
We ain't fucking fighting i'm locked in
Open them notes and I'm fucking writing
Good screws in my ears
They dance in the fucking lighting
Swipe this, scam that
I love them fucking Pros
Boy took one to the chest
Like he Derrick Rose
Gift cards, gift cards, I got a lot of those
You not getting money with them
Roshes on yo fucking toes
Eleven bands in these pockets
That's that Klay Thompson
Give the plug ten
I got twelve left like I'm John Stockton
Good rocket in my pocket
Pull it back and I'ma cock it
And if he got beef with me
We can never drop it
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you, gang
Different Breed the mixtape, man
I know y'all been waiting on
This shit but I got to it
It's BabyTron in this bitch
Youngest nigga with a roll ha, yep
Turn around, turn around like a roundabout
Fuck you, bitch
Where was you when I was down and out?
Yo bitch on the phone with
You while I'm pounding out after I hit
She on the side like she grinding out
Now let me show you
What them thousands 'bout
Upping rolls on the 'Gram
You can count it out
I used to be broke but then
A nigga found it out
These Margielas, baby girl
Just try and sound it out good strips on me
She asked did I hit the Powerball
Nah, I just hit the road and
Came back with a twenty ball
Paid three for the shirt
That's a 'Gelo Ball
Two sticks on my hip like I'm Darth Maul
Hop in the whip and hit the
Road in a Nike fit
I got them pieces on me fucking up I96
Dumb ho call me broke? I'll
Thrust on that grimy bitch
Scammed a lady out her house rent
On some slimy shit
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you
Ayy, bro
We gotta score like it's fourth and go
And if you get in the way
Just know I got a pole
Seen a lot of shit in my
Life that done hurt my soul
But you never know
I stay smiling with a onion roll
Got a white boy with that
Shit down in Brighton
Do I look like Floyd? We got chops
We ain't fucking fighting i'm locked in
Open them notes and I'm fucking writing
Good screws in my ears
They dance in the fucking lighting
Swipe this, scam that
I love them fucking Pros
Boy took one to the chest
Like he Derrick Rose
Gift cards, gift cards, I got a lot of those
You not getting money with them
Roshes on yo fucking toes
Eleven bands in these pockets
That's that Klay Thompson
Give the plug ten
I got twelve left like I'm John Stockton
Good rocket in my pocket
Pull it back and I'ma cock it
And if he got beef with me
We can never drop it
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops
With that shit on you
Turn around on the road so
They won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all
And had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you
I'm gon' spit on you, gang