lirik lagu babytron & certified trapper - day w/ tsf
[intro: sauce walka]
(damjonboi)
ooh~wee
mhm
splash
ooh~wee
[verse 1: sauce walka]
real gangster, i ain’t wearing no f~nny pack
louie v monogram jeans, where the blammy at?
only way i’m sleeping with the b~tch if she pay me that
seven rings on like i’m tom brady, running back
she flew in to steal your money and you ordered that
hating on me but drive a buick, you afforded that
in my early twenties, touching millions, had a covid sack
dropped a crazy eight adidas check on some maybachs
[verse 2: peso peso]
eight moncler bubble coats, just dropped off a brick
reach for the neck like it’s sweet and get popped in your sh~t
your b~tch can go mountain climbin’ with these rocks on my wrist
srt h~llcat, i might just slidе in the pit
[verse 3: certified trapper]
all them bricks that i twisted, man, my wrist need an ap
twеnty tee flawless, lil’ n~gga dropped an eight~piece
hit a n~gga’s sh~t from a distance, cost an ags
get on n~gga ass with the switch, sold me fake ps
[verse 4: babytron]
popping tens out the ‘script, we slapping pressed ones
b~tch asking me questions, she must think that this a press run
thirty~two degrees around my neck, it got my chest numb
we don’t hit the range, we hop in traffic when we test guns
[verse 5: sauce walka]
in the booth with the phone in my hand
i ain’t reading no raps, the ho just made thirty bands
sippin’ syrup in the maybach, makin’ plans
got a ho up in j~pan, finna fly her to thailand
might pour a four of syrup up in the can
lean hit me so hard, i could barely even stand
diamonds on my hand, walka controller
b~tch see them lights flash, now she tryna sleep over
[verse 6: peso peso]
b~tch tryna sleep over, but i got too many plays
i’m cross country with the hustling, pick up money different states
look at peso over there, pulled up in an i8
my n~gga locked up getting money, sh~t, i guess crime pays
ain’t doing too much of that talking, but i take off n~ggas’ fitteds
me and bro michael and franklin how we clearing every mission
srt hop out, but used to shoot out honda civic
i grab my chop, rock out, and get to stompin’ on the business
[verse 7: certified trapper]
man, if you up that b~tch, better not hesitate
slid on they block, thirty minutes, you see yellow tape
i see n~ggas broke and they poor, can’t find a better phrase
finna pour a b~tch car note up in this lemonade
saucin’ on the b~tch like, yes, i make her spend her pape’
everything bust, vvs, ask johnny dang
catch em in the alley meet the stretcher, i ain’t f~ckin’ playing
get the money counter, b~tch i’m finna start another chain
[verse 8: babytron]
who is father nature? hit the club, they call me brother rain
who you think you foolin’ in your uncle watch and brother chain?
you would think i climbed my crib, i got it out the gutter mane
when it come to smoke we run towards it, you’d run away
it ain’t even eight, i’m puffin’ eighths and gave my cup an eight
told the teller grab some floaties, b~tch, i’m finna flood the bank
if we see em, buckle up ’cause i can’t let em run the plates
used to want a hundred bucks, now what the f~cks a hundred k?
used to split a meal, now we eating off a hundred plates
they can’t figure out how they gon’ stop me hit a hundred— ayy
they can’t figure out how they gon’ stop me hit a hundred straight
thinking we some green lights, i guarantee we’ll pump his brakes
[outro: babytron]
sh~ttyboyz, dogsh~t militia, long live $cams, you know?
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