Shoebox Baby - Red Lights lyrics
[Shoebox Baby - Red Lights lyrics]
Known to let that MAC fly
Just like my nigga Doe, buh
Uh huh, uh huh, come on
(Known to let that MAC fly
Just like my nigga Doe, buh)
Yeah, slatt, it's 'Box
Shit got real they like
"Shoebox chill", bitch
I was just in the field
I need a mill', matter a fact make that five
If we talkin’ a deal
See I gotta check and I got respect
Have Boss Top at your neck
And folks like shootin’ while
He drivin’, bitch, he ridin’ in a Scat
This a Hеllcat that bitch go vroom-vroom
We tryna scoom-scoom
Pop out that cut and line ‘em
Up and thеn we boom long live HK and Platoon
I know Heaven got some room
But I ain’t goin’ out sweet
Send this bitch right to the moon
Crash the 'Cat doin’ one-fifty
You’ll think we fuck with Herb
Bad lil’ bitch ridin’ in the back
She not from sixty-third
Old nigga play it any type of way
We leave ‘em on the curb
Kal too hot, he be thirsty
Get to shootin’ like Larry Bird
This a hot car, filled with hot Glocks
That bitch go fah-fah slide on the opps
Then that car go to the chop shop
Ah ha, them hollows hot as hell
He need a doctor
Who shot ya? We don’t fuck with ghosts
Only choppers
I don't stop at red lights, bitch
I'm in a fast car
I don't fuck with your type
My bitches be bad broads
Came a long way from handcuffs
I got a Audemar big bag, big mad
Your bitch said she want a star
I don't stop at red lights, bitch
I'm in a fast car
I don't fuck with your type
My bitches be bad broads
Came a long way from handcuffs
I got a Audemar big bag, big mad
Your bitch said she want a star
Just like my nigga Doe, buh
Uh huh, uh huh, come on
(Known to let that MAC fly
Just like my nigga Doe, buh)
Yeah, slatt, it's 'Box
Shit got real they like
"Shoebox chill", bitch
I was just in the field
I need a mill', matter a fact make that five
If we talkin’ a deal
See I gotta check and I got respect
Have Boss Top at your neck
And folks like shootin’ while
He drivin’, bitch, he ridin’ in a Scat
This a Hеllcat that bitch go vroom-vroom
We tryna scoom-scoom
Pop out that cut and line ‘em
Up and thеn we boom long live HK and Platoon
I know Heaven got some room
But I ain’t goin’ out sweet
Send this bitch right to the moon
Crash the 'Cat doin’ one-fifty
You’ll think we fuck with Herb
Bad lil’ bitch ridin’ in the back
She not from sixty-third
Old nigga play it any type of way
We leave ‘em on the curb
Kal too hot, he be thirsty
Get to shootin’ like Larry Bird
This a hot car, filled with hot Glocks
That bitch go fah-fah slide on the opps
Then that car go to the chop shop
Ah ha, them hollows hot as hell
He need a doctor
Who shot ya? We don’t fuck with ghosts
Only choppers
I don't stop at red lights, bitch
I'm in a fast car
I don't fuck with your type
My bitches be bad broads
Came a long way from handcuffs
I got a Audemar big bag, big mad
Your bitch said she want a star
I don't stop at red lights, bitch
I'm in a fast car
I don't fuck with your type
My bitches be bad broads
Came a long way from handcuffs
I got a Audemar big bag, big mad
Your bitch said she want a star