[Intro: BabyTron]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, bitch

[Verse 1: BabyTron]
I'm in the boondocks, ridin' 'round with two chops
Eighth of shrooms in the Scat, that's a boom box
Fuck them two chops, I got two Glocks with two thots
How we finna play it? I got three pints and two pops
How the fuck this finna go? It's one burner, two pots
You and your mans, do the math, boy, that's two cops
Collateral, we let off one bullet, hit two tops
We ain't aimin' at your arm, you think these flu shots?
No Nut November, so I'm overdoin' it October
BabyTron been hip since he was scootin' in a stroller
Cuddy aka an earthquake, just moved another boulder
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat, I seen your name up in another folder

[Verse 2: T Bone]
The bitch said I love her funny 'cause I never told her
That shit even funnier, 'cause I don't еven know her
Fuck it, you might as well givе the gang coochie
'Cause you the one in this bitch actin' like a groupie
Lookin' for a JT with my lil' Uzi
She said she only at the party for to shake her booty
Jumpin' out in Gucci, truck on the Ruccis
Leave a n***a gang runnin', screamin' out, "They shootin'"
Your shit was boring from the start, get to the conclusion
If the boys get behind me, I'm fleein' into Luding'
Walk around with blues on me like I got bruises
The bitch asked me was I lyin', I am not Lucious
[Verse 3: BabyTron]
Go and get a Glock, doofus, we'll leave the block roarin'
You would think the Drac' came with a whoopee cushion
You would think the Drac' came with a whoopee cushion, it won't stop pootin'
You can't stop losin', your bitch, she can't stop droolin'
Can you please stop talkin' 'bout some shit you not doin'?
Shooter in the booth, he finna make some tap-a-top music

[Verse 4: T Bone]
This that shit you bob your head, shootin', while you catch an opp to it
Bitch, what the fuck? I'm 'bout to nut, I told you stop movin'
Your first plan ain't work, take a plan B
At the bottom of her bikini, she got cheeks like she Sandy
Drill turned him to some Runtz, you ain't never smoked this shit here
Hell nah, you can't hit my blunt

[Verse 5: BabyTron]
Put him in the trunk
I ain't even wanna fuck the bitch, you put it in her butt
I'ma call you Freaky Freaky Freaky Freddy
Really Jimmy, that was Tron, but the bitch just think she met me
Really been left the ho, but this lil' bitch just think she left me

[Verse 6: T Bone]
I'll have unky snipe a n***a like he Wesley
Even if your name was Johnny, you wouldn't test me
I'll do a n***a lethal with my new weapon
New money mean new blessings
[Verse 7: BabyTron]
Tryna think what you gon' lie about, you in the booth sweatin'
You in the stu' stressin, unky take a blue, press it
Hundred-plus pairs, got a European shoe fetish
Shit, I'm drivin' too reckless, I'ma need 'bout two seconds, two-liter dirty
That's a '98 you ride around in, that two-seater dirty
Couldn't bust this nut if I was born to score, like, thanks to Perky
Why your bitch just ask me for a kiss? I gave your bae a Hershey
What, we finna start a quick match? You always changin' jerseys
Chain, chain, chain, chain, chains, these bitches gettin' sturdy
Drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, it got my vision blurry

[Verse 8: T Bone & BabyTron]
Tryna tuck it 'fore we go inside this club
Ayy, gang, can you see the thirty?
Knowin' that they ain't gon' search me
Your bitch actin' flirty, Sprite look like Kirby
All this bitch do is gobble, she my lil' turkey
I just bought a new jersey out in New Jersey
I can trust my n***a James, 'cause that n***a worthy
N***a, you a lame, I can see you down at the bus stop up on my plane
Don't want the Audemars bust, I'ma get it plain
This bitch must be from New York how she let these n***as run trains
Try to snatch my n***a chain, I'ma snatch your brain
Four of Stily, me and Max just matched some 'Pane
How ironic, I'm sippin' purple, ridin' in the rain
[Outro]
N***a, what you want?
I want you over my house, cuttin' my grass like you supposed to be
Well, too bad for you, 'cause I just took another job
And even though they don't pay hardly nothin', workin' for white folks look way better on my résumé
Damnit, this is the fourth week in a row you've cancelled on me, the yard looks like a jungle
Well, Chim-Chim, you three vine-swingers should feel right at home
I'll be there when the white man don't need me no more
Now, let this be yet another reminder
That no matter how much money you got, you still just a n***a