BabyTron - TWITTER HACKED FREESTYLE lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[BabyTron - TWITTER HACKED FREESTYLE lyrics]
Ah, they hacked my Twitter on shit
This shit so crazy ayo, Mark A
Man, bitch, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz
I don't know the price on the lobster
Got to ask the market early in the AM
I'm riding in an Aston Martin
Twitter hacked, if you bought a feature, boy
You half-retarded
(Man, I can't believe that shit
Never could do five hundred)
Some days, it feel like everybody hating
Everybody 'round you snake, everybody faking
DSM charm on the way
You know that Hutchy made it
You was chasing hoes, I was out money chasing
Left 'em with the funny faces
I just left Hollywood, the show
It was sold out offensivе lineman
You ain't running no routes (None)
Yеah, I used to be a rookie, I'm the pro now
(Pro)
I'm GOAT now and they don't know how (GOAT)
She charged up off the
Beans like they Senzu's (Shit)
Shit, he over nine thousand
In the club turnt
Shitty charm off the test tube (Shit)
Mike Amiri's, I might throw a dime out 'em
(Whew)
Goose with the fur, shit, I look Norwegian
I'ma spend at least a five ball
I step foot in Neiman's
Nike Tech, Nike Tech
It's the jugging season (Brr)
They was Ray Charles to the vision
Guess they couldn't see it
(That's unfortunate)
Had that chicken on me in the
A before I hit Hattie B's
You would turn around and miss the
Shot like you Swaggy P
Four of Wocky got me wobbling
'round like it's Happy Feet
Hundred rounder cooked dawg like
He got ashy knees
I'ma stick to the skinnies
Why you got on saggy jeans?
Got a stick in my skinnies
Don't make me grab the heat
I'm just winning
I don't give a fuck if they mad at me
Tell 'em grab a seat
MIA, July, you can catch me, Rolling Loud
I might hop on stage without a
Mic and just blow a pound (Whew, whew)
Talking 'bout the plug? I'll ho you
You ain't sold an ounce
Hopping out the coupe, Roscoe Dash, bitch
I'm showing out
Why you always talking 'bout shit
You don't know about?
How I get a scuff on these
Kicks? I gotta throw 'em out
GTA lifestyle, I'm just roaming 'round
(Skrrt, skrrt) it get cold where I'm at
That's why the coat a thou'
Don't be surprised if I end up XXL
Gotta cut him off the team
That's another test fail
Two packs of 'Woods, three good
And the rest stale (Fuck)
Why you got a bag? I think
You praying on your next sale
Inhale, exhale
I see the stress leave my body
So many horses in the whip
I feel like kemosabe
High as hell, by three o'clock
Poured a three of Wocky (Whew)
Chop' on me and hell nah
I ain't finna eat Hibachi
Shooter pull 'em up and drop 'em off, shit
He think he Bruce going one-sixty
I might die tryna swing the coupe
2022 type shit, don't need a key to use
Megatron on the way
I'm finna leave 'em spooked (Bitch)
This shit so crazy ayo, Mark A
Man, bitch, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz
I don't know the price on the lobster
Got to ask the market early in the AM
I'm riding in an Aston Martin
Twitter hacked, if you bought a feature, boy
You half-retarded
(Man, I can't believe that shit
Never could do five hundred)
Some days, it feel like everybody hating
Everybody 'round you snake, everybody faking
DSM charm on the way
You know that Hutchy made it
You was chasing hoes, I was out money chasing
Left 'em with the funny faces
I just left Hollywood, the show
It was sold out offensivе lineman
You ain't running no routes (None)
Yеah, I used to be a rookie, I'm the pro now
(Pro)
I'm GOAT now and they don't know how (GOAT)
She charged up off the
Beans like they Senzu's (Shit)
Shit, he over nine thousand
In the club turnt
Shitty charm off the test tube (Shit)
Mike Amiri's, I might throw a dime out 'em
(Whew)
Goose with the fur, shit, I look Norwegian
I'ma spend at least a five ball
I step foot in Neiman's
Nike Tech, Nike Tech
It's the jugging season (Brr)
They was Ray Charles to the vision
Guess they couldn't see it
(That's unfortunate)
Had that chicken on me in the
A before I hit Hattie B's
You would turn around and miss the
Shot like you Swaggy P
Four of Wocky got me wobbling
'round like it's Happy Feet
Hundred rounder cooked dawg like
He got ashy knees
I'ma stick to the skinnies
Why you got on saggy jeans?
Got a stick in my skinnies
Don't make me grab the heat
I'm just winning
I don't give a fuck if they mad at me
Tell 'em grab a seat
MIA, July, you can catch me, Rolling Loud
I might hop on stage without a
Mic and just blow a pound (Whew, whew)
Talking 'bout the plug? I'll ho you
You ain't sold an ounce
Hopping out the coupe, Roscoe Dash, bitch
I'm showing out
Why you always talking 'bout shit
You don't know about?
How I get a scuff on these
Kicks? I gotta throw 'em out
GTA lifestyle, I'm just roaming 'round
(Skrrt, skrrt) it get cold where I'm at
That's why the coat a thou'
Don't be surprised if I end up XXL
Gotta cut him off the team
That's another test fail
Two packs of 'Woods, three good
And the rest stale (Fuck)
Why you got a bag? I think
You praying on your next sale
Inhale, exhale
I see the stress leave my body
So many horses in the whip
I feel like kemosabe
High as hell, by three o'clock
Poured a three of Wocky (Whew)
Chop' on me and hell nah
I ain't finna eat Hibachi
Shooter pull 'em up and drop 'em off, shit
He think he Bruce going one-sixty
I might die tryna swing the coupe
2022 type shit, don't need a key to use
Megatron on the way
I'm finna leave 'em spooked (Bitch)