Tae Retro - Royal Rumble!!! (feat. BabyTron) lyrics
BabyTron [James Edward Johnson IV] Ypsilanti, Michigan. U.S.
[Tae Retro - Royal Rumble!!! feat. BabyTron lyrics]
Tae Retro, Tae Retro (I got so much Enrgy)
You wanna learn spice talk
I can teach you something
Rainbows off the chain
I ain't reading nothing (Nah)
If you see me in the stu'
Then I'm up to something
Chasing for a ring, she still lost
DeMarcus Cousins
That just mean that she's outta luck
It's a late show when I rap
Got the magic touch (Baller)
Seen numbers off the rap, I ain't had enough
Gotta grind, I've seen hard times
I've had it rough (Talk to 'em)
But I'm on to some better times
Heard bro last song and he bet on rhymes
(Simple) you sell weed and still broke?
Need a better crime
Blank out when I'm on the track
I lose my mind they say crime don't pay
That's a whole lie
Don't believe me? Go and ask Tron
He can tell why
The day I cuff a rat, you'll see pigs fly
I ain't putting clamps on these hoes
Not a fun guy (What?)
Got your girl clapping from the
Crowd like a soccer mom
Rap god, punchlines from the Pantheon
This game takes a long time, it's a marathon
If y'all rolling out
Then we slide like Decepticons
Heard you put your trust in a ho
That's a rookie move
Put my all into the rap, what I got to lose?
Know I'm nice with the bars
I ain't got to prove
Can't compete and deep down inside
That bothers you (It do)
What's comp'? I'm on top
Of the leaderboard
If she ain't giving up the neck
What I need her for? (What?)
Couldn't even look at the fit
Now I'm leaving stores
Finna cop a Sprinter with the guys
I need to tour if you switch sides
Then you know that I won't forgive
You always beefing with the opps
You must hate to live (You gon' die)
Do a verse for the low
Then I'm off the grid
Say you was better than?
(What?) yeah, you off the meds
ShittyBoyz that shit was super crunchy (Woo)
The slides ain't work? Finna use a punchy
(Puncher) i fell down and bounced back
I ain't use a bungee
He caught seven out the 40
How is dude unlucky?
Your money shorter than a leprechaun
You need a thousand dollar sneaks
If you step with Tron
I got eyes everywhere, the Fendi sweater on
I'll let the chop' piledrive you
It ain't wrestle time
Huh, punch, I'm a fraud contender
Talk wet, walk wet, I'm a water bender
Blocking ham everyday
I'm what you call a center
And to the opps acting tough, boy
Y'all all pretenders
Huh, no cap, y'all a ball of corn
Sleeve Nash set him up, bitch
We all gon' score oh, that bitch? Huh
That's what I call a whore
Bought everything at the set
Can't hit the mall no more
Nah, for real, I'm an exquisite shopper
I don't believe what you say, huh
Mr crocker red and blue Christian Loub's
You work with the coppers
Flying 'round like I'm Boba Fett
I'm a pistol popper
Huh, I'm finna talk crunch-el dunch-el
Coach ain't seen it
But I got a bunch of hustle
Triple double up in Texas like
I fuck with Russell
Up the chop' for that bread, bust it
He gon' crumble
I got cheese on my mind, mozzarella brain
Scope with the zoom on that bitch, boy
I got hella range all this Comme des
Couldn't tell that I done felt the pain
Them baggy-ass jeans
These ain't Rockefeller days
And we'll shoot him like a
J till he catch Z's
And you gon' have to get a
Fade if you catch these
Bitch knew that I was great since she met me
Shipping next day
Twenty-seven off the next three
Huh, off the next three, yeah, Tae
Ayy, ayy, what up, Enrgy?
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz
Whew, whew, whew, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
You wanna learn spice talk
I can teach you something
Rainbows off the chain
I ain't reading nothing (Nah)
If you see me in the stu'
Then I'm up to something
Chasing for a ring, she still lost
DeMarcus Cousins
That just mean that she's outta luck
It's a late show when I rap
Got the magic touch (Baller)
Seen numbers off the rap, I ain't had enough
Gotta grind, I've seen hard times
I've had it rough (Talk to 'em)
But I'm on to some better times
Heard bro last song and he bet on rhymes
(Simple) you sell weed and still broke?
Need a better crime
Blank out when I'm on the track
I lose my mind they say crime don't pay
That's a whole lie
Don't believe me? Go and ask Tron
He can tell why
The day I cuff a rat, you'll see pigs fly
I ain't putting clamps on these hoes
Not a fun guy (What?)
Got your girl clapping from the
Crowd like a soccer mom
Rap god, punchlines from the Pantheon
This game takes a long time, it's a marathon
If y'all rolling out
Then we slide like Decepticons
Heard you put your trust in a ho
That's a rookie move
Put my all into the rap, what I got to lose?
Know I'm nice with the bars
I ain't got to prove
Can't compete and deep down inside
That bothers you (It do)
What's comp'? I'm on top
Of the leaderboard
If she ain't giving up the neck
What I need her for? (What?)
Couldn't even look at the fit
Now I'm leaving stores
Finna cop a Sprinter with the guys
I need to tour if you switch sides
Then you know that I won't forgive
You always beefing with the opps
You must hate to live (You gon' die)
Do a verse for the low
Then I'm off the grid
Say you was better than?
(What?) yeah, you off the meds
ShittyBoyz that shit was super crunchy (Woo)
The slides ain't work? Finna use a punchy
(Puncher) i fell down and bounced back
I ain't use a bungee
He caught seven out the 40
How is dude unlucky?
Your money shorter than a leprechaun
You need a thousand dollar sneaks
If you step with Tron
I got eyes everywhere, the Fendi sweater on
I'll let the chop' piledrive you
It ain't wrestle time
Huh, punch, I'm a fraud contender
Talk wet, walk wet, I'm a water bender
Blocking ham everyday
I'm what you call a center
And to the opps acting tough, boy
Y'all all pretenders
Huh, no cap, y'all a ball of corn
Sleeve Nash set him up, bitch
We all gon' score oh, that bitch? Huh
That's what I call a whore
Bought everything at the set
Can't hit the mall no more
Nah, for real, I'm an exquisite shopper
I don't believe what you say, huh
Mr crocker red and blue Christian Loub's
You work with the coppers
Flying 'round like I'm Boba Fett
I'm a pistol popper
Huh, I'm finna talk crunch-el dunch-el
Coach ain't seen it
But I got a bunch of hustle
Triple double up in Texas like
I fuck with Russell
Up the chop' for that bread, bust it
He gon' crumble
I got cheese on my mind, mozzarella brain
Scope with the zoom on that bitch, boy
I got hella range all this Comme des
Couldn't tell that I done felt the pain
Them baggy-ass jeans
These ain't Rockefeller days
And we'll shoot him like a
J till he catch Z's
And you gon' have to get a
Fade if you catch these
Bitch knew that I was great since she met me
Shipping next day
Twenty-seven off the next three
Huh, off the next three, yeah, Tae
Ayy, ayy, what up, Enrgy?
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz
Whew, whew, whew, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy