lirik lagu babytron - killas, robbers & juggers
[intro]
hey
shittyboyz
mm, hmm, hey (don’t you know you won the lotto?)
[verse 1]
hit it with some zyba, boy, this shit’ll drop a hip~up
presidential tinted, you would think the pop a limo
why you talkin’ pape’ and you ain’t never shopped on zillow?
snuck a trey through tsa, i should’ve copped a pillow
i bet don bring her out her shell like an armadillo
we some sea creatures, we’ll turn some sharks to minnows
hundred on me, lookin’ for the drank, i need a case
i got a hundred for some perc 10s, shit, i need like eight
nowadays it’s spectors, pandemic, it’d be i8’s
everybody got a time, i know i gotta see my day
askin’ all thesе questions, shit, i think doggy cia
walk him down, pull my mask up, i let him see my face
pokеr face and tag too, five ak, let him see my hands
you damn near still ain’t finished puberty, you still ain’t seen nine bands?
huh, why he tryna be militia? he can’t be my mans
if i don’t pull the mike amiris down, this bitch gon’ eat my pants
sandstorm paintjob, the seats butter pecan
bill laimbeer, pop out a dub in each hand
lil’ bro burnt out, got a gun in each hand
you better hope he don’t blink, he get ugly off xans
you would think that unc’ on vacay, stompin’ in the sand
you would think it’s homecoming, get to drumming like a band
when it come to pape’, ain’t nothin’ more important than the profit
[chorus]
i’d rather be the kidnapper than the hostage
i’d rather be the killer than who got popped
i’d rather be the robber than who got robbed
i’d rather be the swiper than who got scammed
i’d rather be the jugger than who got hams
[verse 2]
knockin’ on all my neighbours’ doors like who got pans?
twenty~five, i’m thinkin’ double r, last year i drived ram
it ain’t ’bout who the star, shit, who got the high hand?
lil’ tron was rockin’ like that since the rock pants
hold on, where i’m at again?
let me check my low, you know i’m in here smacked again
unc fuckwitables by ‘bow, you know we crackin’ heads
blood ain’t mobile, but he got a brick, he finna trap for benz
‘fore i ever touched a dub, i had to stack by tens
bein’ grown’ll fuck you up, then cut off half my friends
cutty got his wrist in the pot, he tryna snatch a yeah
your dead mans hittin’ hard as fuck, i wish i had a bed
but your cousin, he’ll pack a reg’
you know the lifestyle we live, i’m somewhere at the edge
any time i got a loaf, the guys got half the bread
lil’ neph went and caught a b, he had to scrap the dreads
i ain’t slept in a week, shit, that’s the meds
we was goin’ light last year, we finna max the press
i can see through that smile, boy, your ass depressed
the first day of fall, you know i went and cashed a ‘tek
glass cleaner, let me show you how to cash a check
might as well take your jersey off, you just sat the bench
real gremlin, bro don’t care if they smacked with fent’
this day seven years ago, i had some jacks to catch
now i got a mil’ to count, can somebody help me?
he gon’ keep tryna wild out until somebody belt him
i need a line on al farm and can somebody tell me?
twenty~five, the hype boys, nah, this ain’t unky pelle
[interlude]
can somebody help me?
can somebody belt him?
hell naw, this ain’t unky pelle
shittyboyz, dog shit militia
long live $cam, you know?
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey (nyah)
[chorus]
i’d rather be the kidnapper than the hostage
i’d rather be the killer than who got popped
i’d rather be the robber than who got robbed
i’d rather be the swiper than who got scammed
i’d rather be the jugger than who got hams
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