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locked in - babytron & babyfxce e lyrics

[intro: babytron]
i’m tryna stay locked in
it’s [?] (thank you, jxlan, i appreciate you, man)
nyah, phew

[verse 1: babytron]
i’ll dress up like a crackhead to ask for gas
soon as he crack the window down, i’ma fah his ass
mr. do the dash, the decal gon’ match the badge
bottega everything, me and my b*tch, we matchin’ bags
f*ck a flashback friday, we can flash some racks
she tryna land in pound town, she gotta wax that cat
dog sh*t militia, b*tch waggin’ waggin’ in my tail waggin’ ‘bach
pull up and melt everything just like a acid tab
my ho play chanelly walkers with the razzledass
all they tryna play is slime, boy, i’ll rattle back
the za i smoke is feelin’ like i’m tryna battle crack
and honestly, i almost died tryna battle back
david robinson, they call mе, “add more apple jacks”
i’ma tryna bin laden, slidin’ with thе taliban
they like, “what you smoking on?” oh, just the dallas mav’s
and the list, think it’s rigged how they graphed the stats
lil’ b*tch sn*tched my soul, so i sn*tched hers back
rollie with the sh*tty face, not a dab of ranch
you better not touch my coffee cup, sh*t, i act like gramps
why this deuce of stilpane tryna act like xans?
i’m a young sack*runner, you know gramz my mans
i’ll fl!ck a couple pics, i can’t ham my fans
oh, you want some beef? we’ll serve it to you like i’m sam i am
trx so fast, fine sh*t done grabbed my hand
i ain’t at the bank to look cool, i just sn*tched nine bands
militia out in traffic zooming, we just sn*tched five lamb’s
i told you that i got a baby momma, b*tch, don’t grab my pants
b*tch, unhand my drawls
riding with a long ‘k, sound like a dragunov
that lil’ b*tch p*ssy on fire, you seen dragons talk?
[he’ll cook horrendous?] unky in here making dragons walk
f*ck a bag, i’ll drag the mall
i’ll fl!ck the b*tton on and cut the traction off
don’t you dare call me a worker, i’ll smack yo’ boss
cartier buffs white as f*ck like [asher roth?]
she almost stayed a head shot, but i cannon balled
stuffed her with a condom, and we stuffed it with a bag of raw
all she did was read the first word and ripped my jacket off
probably was my trigger fingers if it’s hands involved
it’ll probably make a cool rack you sell yo’ catalog
when i pull these diamonds out, just watch them jabba walk
i can’t save you from that deep end, david hasselhoff
grab the penthouse, i been mastered lofts
when we yank the tracker out, you can’t track the hawk
he thought he got some cocaina, that’s a bag of salt
gotta remodel the hardwood floors, i just stashed the vault
who the f*ck told you—? yeah, you must’ve had some nah
we the type to k!ll him on the court if he don’t pass the ball
[bridge: babytron & babyfxce e]
sh*ttyboyz, dog sh*t miltia, double*7, 7772
sh*ttyboyz (yeah), dog sh*t miltia
long live $cam, r.i.p. chris (m*block), t*double*h*l sh*t you hip, skip? (aight) you know the script (aight, huh), nyah

[verse 2: babyfxce e]
fxce was f*cked up as a kid, bruh, he ain’t have it all
she ain’t answer when i went to jail, b*tch, i ain’t have to call
just passed this b*tch to bro cause he ain’t have a ball
so much money, i put it side to side, bro, you can’t stack it tall
’cause this gon’ fallin’ if i do
girl’s tripping after she get it tighter, can’t call that b*tch my boo
i’m p*ssed, we just broke up after i bought her ass some shoes
and not no j’s either, i got them pink bottega dudes

- babytron babyfxce e lyrics

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