BabyTron – BANG4YOBUCK Lyrics

BANG4YOBUCK Lyrics by BabyTron

[Intro]
Damjonboi

[Verse]
Remember wakin’ up and goin’ straight to wait for the bus
Trapper made one in the nilly, should’ve played for the Bucks
Left it on her face for free, you had to pay for the nut
MIA, I’m out the way, I gotta save for the month
Told my ‘migo, “Bring some flavors,” got a taste for the Runtz
Make her toot it in the air, I’m finna aim for the guts
Grab a eighth for my cup, another eighth for the blunt
Gotta bend for a punch, I got a base for the dump
I can’t count on one hand how many chains out of Hutch
They like, “How he do it?” I increased my range in the clutch
Better tightеn up and think, can’t use yo’ brain if it’s bust
Cuddy got it for the low, come gеt some bang for yo’ buck
He been switchin’ up more than I change frames on the buffs
Wocky stains in the cup, we got Ks in the trunk
Towards the back of the book, read every page from the front
Scrumble man a rockstar, he get on stage, then he jump
C-O-D, overkill, I got the K off the pump
How it feel to be a worker, runnin’ plays for yo’ unc’?
It’s all fun and games ’til it’s time to go stay on them bunks
Thinkin’ I’ma hit a homer, at the plate, I’ma bunt
Five years out of school, you still a lame, you a flunk
Damn near twenty-five, ain’t got no pape’? You a bum
Actin’ like a part of gang, is you straight? Is you drunk?
Caught him out in traffic, popped out with the A to the “Uh”
Out in Cali’, dodgin’ paparazzi, bronem poppin’ Oxys
Weapon plug, he got exotic shit, I told him, “Molotov me”
Rental out a budget mini-van, I told ’em, “Soccer mom me”
No veggies on my hibachi, already smoked lots of brocolli
Pop sister, got some scripts of Wock’, I’m finna shop with auntie
Akhi out his shit, suicide bombin’ on the Kawasaki
Somebody slap me in my casket if the opps and ’em pop me
All that hat and cappin’, if you got a hundred shots, then drop me
I don’t really, really, really, really think he on that
I don’t really, really, really, really think he want that
I don’t really, really, really, really think he on that
I think that’s just his bro’ strap
If it’s on the floor, we meet him at the door mat
Cuddy laced off the shrooms, he think the stove tapped
I think my phone tapped
Tryna make some money on yo’ jack, you on the wrong app
Plug ain’t take the cookie out the oven, this a bowl batch
Audemar is white gold, it came with a rose patch
Hit the floor, Jack, or get your soul snatched
Check the score, y’all need a breather, where your coach at?
[Outro]
SBDSM, T double-H L, we unstoppable