
lirik lagu babytron - retro tron
[intro]
(you gotta f~ck it up, getta beats)
(not everybody can record)
(b~tch, you definitely can’t record)
hey, hey
[verse]
ain’t in my choice, ain’t in my life
i’m out in five points, getting high~high
like a hippie, five joints, cup tie~dye
you the type to score nine points, sit the sideline
we gon’ sip till the pint empty, hey
we gon’ smoke till the bowl gone, hey
bad ho, only like benjis, hey
b~tch diggin’ for some rose gold, ayy
turn a cup of ice to a snow cone, hey
turn a cup of sprite to a snow globe, hey
they don’t follow by the bro code
you ain’t gotta type, all you follow’s broke hoes
oh, that’s your ho? that’s my lil’ go~go
you a rat, so your son, he a lil’ po~po
dub on the screwbacks, lil’ jojo
you would think i’m from the crab, do a lil’ showboat when i walk out
shootin’ pills out, it used to be joe dumars
they used to be shy, nowadays hoes too guards
eyes low, you would think i know k~mar
you would think it’s star wars, i clone tukar
you a punch guy, i clear two carts
exotic in the leaf, wine~blowing rhubarb
this b~tch morph chrome, boy, i need a new heart
control all the lean hoes, i don’t need a tool bar
i heard they said they want the retro tron back
i feel ’em though, sh~t, i want the retro wock’ back
huh, hey, i wanna pole up in the live wire, where the retro pops at?
b~tch a rabbit, i ain’t even have to set a cheese trap
he ain’t even got a mattress, just a set of bean bags
you would think this b~tch had a extra set of knee caps
if she come out in that bonnet, i’ma lay my seat back
all i think is racks
lil’ brodie out his sh~t, all he thinks straps
it’s so dark, all he thinks black
try to teach fuzz how to rap, but all he think’s trap
i guess all he think’s rap
ever since i watched the wire, all i think’s taps
sh~t, when we talkin’, i don’t wanna see jacks
rich f~ck, thinkin’ caps be supreme hats
i don’t got a heart, i think i bleed black
i don’t give a f~ck, i gotta speak facts
alfredo goods, all inside the cream lap
when it’s wartime, you gotta know that you can’t re~rap
b~tch, how is you an esky? you ain’t got no client
i can tell you never made no money, sh~t, you gotta try it
if i’m lyin’, then i swear to god i’m flyin’
they like tryna lock you in, but i swear to god i’m tryin’
every day, every night, you know
better fight back, you gon’ lose every fight you don’t
bet you finna grind for the life you own
gotta know i shine before the ice i own
zip your lips with the zips, what we like by bose?
y’all just stay at home crib, livin’ life like hoes
a movie might be too short, sh~t, my life like shows
high as h~ll, turnin’ left on the opps block, tryna right my wrongs
where the morty at?
your b~tch on my pickle rick, get your shorty jacked
with her lil’ h~rny ass
bust all that junk food, pop .40 black
blood’ll slide with machete in this gory bag
you the type to get re~rocked, you dimwit
you know babytron cut like my wrist slit
i pull up rockin’ rick on some sl!ck sh~t
you a pig, so your daughter she a piglet
when they hear this, they gon’ say i did my big one
all the hoes was fine, sh~t, i didn’t wanna pick one (man)
how the f~ck you ain’t get one?
oh, they wanna play? i’ll pull a trick one
talkin’ ’bout a skit? i’ll pull a quick one
brr~ow, i’ll pull a flip one
my zaga zod fuel low, let me twist one
i guess he had jesus with him, how he miss ’em?
every thought, ah~ha
everything i talk about, it be currently
had a dream that they chalked out and murdered me
then i woke up laughin’, they want her to be
zips, three~fifty, drop~offs at the service fee
catch ’em out and i’ma do that sh~t in the worst degree
i don’t know about you (i don’t know)
i don’t know about you, but every day be the first of me
[outro]
sh~ttyboyz dog$hit militia
long live $cam, r.i.p. chris
you know the script, t~double~h~l sh~t
you know the script, huh, hey, huh
sbdsm, troncic
sbdsm, troncic
sbdsm, troncic, 77
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