BabyTron, GSO Zakarree - City Boyz lyrics

Reuel, stop playing with these niggas

Tron just showed a fire BIN
That'll get us rich
I just took him the kitchen
Showed him how to whip
BabyTron on the track, that's a ShittyBoy
Put that pussy in the trunk
He was a shitty boy
I'm fucking every bad bitch I see
I'm a city boy
Tron just punched a fire-ass card
But he is not Floyd
How you plugged in and dying? You a Android
GSO shit, nigga, what you stand for?

A hundred blanks, MacBook, embosser, reader
Writer with me
Starting to think I'm a caveman
I keep fire with me
I could up a seventy and that's
Just off of sliding giffies
You can't get my BIN if you ain't
Never walk in Meijer's with me
Rich problems, man
My new Samsung dryer glitching
Been in my bag but I'm thinking
That it's time to zip it
He ain't gon' think the beef real
Till my sniper hit him
Dawg snake as hell, Randy Orton
Got some viper in him

If I want a nigga touched
I put my hands on him
If I need a nigga killed
I put some bands on him
I'll hit the switch on this
Bitch like a Transformer
Tron got some ice on his neck
I think he scam for 'em
Nigga caught me lacking with the blick
But it jammed on him turn around
Hit him in the head then I stand on him
If I don't want the bitch
I put my mans on him
This a high Tech, sluts
Don't put yo hands on it

You made yo first twenty off
Of EDDs? How typical
I'm a scam vet, show respect
That's the principle really backdooring
Better lock it or I'm slipping through
Still sipping green? You better
Off drinking pickle juice stan got a tool
He ain't fix shit when he hit his roof
Blew six figures, 2020, on the biblical
Unc' got the birds
Turned the Scat to a pigeon coupe
Chop got some kick, Johnny Cage
We'll finish you

When it's beef, fuck a Glock
I'm sending missiles through
Unc' got some birds in the trap
It's a pigeon coupe
I don't know how to scam but I'll serve you
40 hit his top laying down, this is curfew

Gold, white gold, rose gold, trio on my chain
I done wrecked the 'Cat fucking
'round speeding in the rain
Chase, Huntington, BOA, eating off the banks
Talking 'bout you tough but you
Really be where it's safe

Booted up, suited
Ball on niggas like the NBA
I hit this bitch on the bed
I done broke the frame

I used to play a little bit but, nah
Now it's no more games
Backpack jokes up, I ain't smoking