BabyTron - Spidey-Senses lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - Spidey-Senses lyrics]
Enrgy made this one, hey
Quarter ticket on me, no need to exaggerate
It's the middle of the week
But, it's feeling like a Saturday
You ain't got no pull
I'm known from Maine down to Santa Fe
Running up my accolades
Tell a bitch to act her age
Couldn't even hide that he was slimy
Dog a rattlesnake
Shit, I'm too schooled on the streets
I had to graduate
Tension in the air, we see the opps
Make 'em evaporate sippin' dirty Mardi Gras
Them robbers make a masquerade
You a dirty bum
Don't make me break down and elaborate
Could've went and grabbed a normal foreign
Tryna stack a Wraith
We ain't givin' extra 1s, let it calibrate
Life ain't a fairy tale
The villains be victorious
Shit, I'm thumbin' through a book
I got more pape' than a historian
Fuck around and fly the whip around
You'd think it's a Delorian
He won't come outside the crib
Stay in the house, he just be Coryin'
Jefe knocking patients down with scripts
Dr kevorkian dub, dub, dub, dub, this year
It's been glorious german source on Discord
He got me speakin' Sorbian
On the road with fire slides
And punches just like Scorpion
All that rah rah you talking
It don't un lame you
Shooters, they been practicing
Gon' fuck around and gun range you
You been MIA, shit, you must be out of luck
Ain't you? Ask a bitch like, "If I up
This roll, you gon' fuck, ain't you?"
Part time hustle comes with part time results
When I pop a P
It's like Bruce Banner turning Hulk
Shit, I feel my Spidey-Senses tinglin'
Spinnin' the McLaren
All the horsies in the trunk
You'd think the whip came with a carriage
Belt to ass
See the opps and whip 'em like they parents
Wedding Cake touch, plug text like
"It's time for marriage"
All these stores lettin' me down
Might catch a flight to Paris
Know you see this jewelry on my neck
Gon' strain an eye from staring
Yeah, my pain deep, but my bag deeper
Told the plug, "Pull up with loud
" he came through tryna blast speakers
If I like it, I'ma grab it
I am not a tag reader
Shit, he runnin' out of miles
Just go check his gas meter
Catching bricks, glass cleaner
Where I'm at, grass greener
Said he sent a hundred mutts
But shootin' with his bad finger
SIG Sauer with the long nose like an anteater
Tryna add me up, someone go please
Go grab the math teacher shit, fuck
Finna geek up like we at the Comic Con
Every time I see her, I get ate
Call her octagon
How I took off in this foreign whip
You'd think I shot to prom
I can't give the new punch site
That bitch bombcom
Hunted down some retro red
It's finna get nostalgic
Smokin' California in Miami
But the kicks Italian militia vibes
You catch a hat and you gon' get medallions
Gang be running her like errands
Why you think that bitch a stallion?
We ain't gotta check dog, he gon' self guard
Dee got the LMG, he tryna hit your health bar
You still probably rocking Roc
This some Hellstar
Punch work so fire, it might melt cards
I can't tell you where we workin' at
Location unknown I'm a rapper
Let the ARP sing all the love songs
We gon' make it flood
Throw it up 'til the club close
(ShittyBoyz, Dogshit Militia)
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn
Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck
Damn
Quarter ticket on me, no need to exaggerate
It's the middle of the week
But, it's feeling like a Saturday
You ain't got no pull
I'm known from Maine down to Santa Fe
Running up my accolades
Tell a bitch to act her age
Couldn't even hide that he was slimy
Dog a rattlesnake
Shit, I'm too schooled on the streets
I had to graduate
Tension in the air, we see the opps
Make 'em evaporate sippin' dirty Mardi Gras
Them robbers make a masquerade
You a dirty bum
Don't make me break down and elaborate
Could've went and grabbed a normal foreign
Tryna stack a Wraith
We ain't givin' extra 1s, let it calibrate
Life ain't a fairy tale
The villains be victorious
Shit, I'm thumbin' through a book
I got more pape' than a historian
Fuck around and fly the whip around
You'd think it's a Delorian
He won't come outside the crib
Stay in the house, he just be Coryin'
Jefe knocking patients down with scripts
Dr kevorkian dub, dub, dub, dub, this year
It's been glorious german source on Discord
He got me speakin' Sorbian
On the road with fire slides
And punches just like Scorpion
All that rah rah you talking
It don't un lame you
Shooters, they been practicing
Gon' fuck around and gun range you
You been MIA, shit, you must be out of luck
Ain't you? Ask a bitch like, "If I up
This roll, you gon' fuck, ain't you?"
Part time hustle comes with part time results
When I pop a P
It's like Bruce Banner turning Hulk
Shit, I feel my Spidey-Senses tinglin'
Spinnin' the McLaren
All the horsies in the trunk
You'd think the whip came with a carriage
Belt to ass
See the opps and whip 'em like they parents
Wedding Cake touch, plug text like
"It's time for marriage"
All these stores lettin' me down
Might catch a flight to Paris
Know you see this jewelry on my neck
Gon' strain an eye from staring
Yeah, my pain deep, but my bag deeper
Told the plug, "Pull up with loud
" he came through tryna blast speakers
If I like it, I'ma grab it
I am not a tag reader
Shit, he runnin' out of miles
Just go check his gas meter
Catching bricks, glass cleaner
Where I'm at, grass greener
Said he sent a hundred mutts
But shootin' with his bad finger
SIG Sauer with the long nose like an anteater
Tryna add me up, someone go please
Go grab the math teacher shit, fuck
Finna geek up like we at the Comic Con
Every time I see her, I get ate
Call her octagon
How I took off in this foreign whip
You'd think I shot to prom
I can't give the new punch site
That bitch bombcom
Hunted down some retro red
It's finna get nostalgic
Smokin' California in Miami
But the kicks Italian militia vibes
You catch a hat and you gon' get medallions
Gang be running her like errands
Why you think that bitch a stallion?
We ain't gotta check dog, he gon' self guard
Dee got the LMG, he tryna hit your health bar
You still probably rocking Roc
This some Hellstar
Punch work so fire, it might melt cards
I can't tell you where we workin' at
Location unknown I'm a rapper
Let the ARP sing all the love songs
We gon' make it flood
Throw it up 'til the club close
(ShittyBoyz, Dogshit Militia)
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn
Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck
Damn