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lirik lagu still rappin’ – babytron

[intro]
marc boomin, i miss you
b*tch
yeah, huh, b*tch

[verse]
i just dropped twenty*four songs and i’m still rapping
firework faygo, got a four but i’m still active
“babytron? oh, i heard the labels throwing deals at him”
best scammer in the city, b*tch, i’m tronny kilpatrick
you won’t catch me riding ’round in traffic, this some limo tint
up now, all that little sh*t? i don’t trip on it
up the stick and make doggy crouch, on some limbo sh*t
riding ’round with teejay the sleazy, mr. flip*yo*whip
or i could pull up with [?] he mr. split*yo*sh*t
that’s yo pops’ watch, ain’t it? it don’t fit yo wrist
first you need to stop hating then come get yo b*tch
got her eating b*lls, on some hungry hungry hippo sh*t
in a class on my own but i ain’t special ed
do the dash in the christian loubies, left the pedal red
played it crazy, told her give me pape instead of head
keep a demon on my side for whatever the devil send
count up my blessings and i’m finna count these hundreds
mozzarella on yo taco sh*ll, k!llers bounty hunting
playing with a punch, looking for glitches, i done found me something
you calling ’cause i got some pape, why you tryna hound me, cousin?
that’s the trophies clanking
guarantee my shot going in like we kobe fading
everybody tapped the f*ck in, i just know we made it
(ha*ha, yeah, we going up, b*tch)
one stick, one fit? boy, that’s you
babytron the goat with this sh*t? boy, that’s true
talking ’bout you gon’ take what? boy, on who?
looking in the mirror like, d*mn, that boy the truth
zaza to the face, this apricot gelato
i ain’t threw hands in five years, you finna box these hollows
twenty dracs in the ‘wood, the coupe like a box of fontos
told the b*tch, “don’t even suck it if you not gon’ swallow”
cotton candy faygo with a deuce of hi*tech
on a world tour, where the f*ck i’m finna fly next?
(like, honolulu, sh*t)
on a world tour grabbing iphones and gift cards
2012 pros out the door got my d*ck hard
said he got a band for a verse? boy, that’s six bars
ask my whole high school class, b*tch, i drip hard
ask my whole high school class, they can’t f*ck with me
at this point it’s all hustle, ain’t no luck in me
if i hear it’s up, boy, you ain’t gon’ wanna jump with me
b*tch, i just want the head, i ain’t got a hump in me
walked up into hutch a sh*ttyboy, left as tity boi
good drum on this, it’s a fifty, boy
oh, you got a hundred shots? better pray you hit me, boy
[outro]
yeah, i got it with it me, boy
yeah, i got it with it me, boy
huh, yeah, i got it with it me, boy
ayy, b*tch, ayy, huh, yeah, b*tch, i got it with me, boy

- babytron

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