Alley-ooper – BabyTron

Yeah, okay, I swear to God
They can’t fuck with me
They can’t fuck with me (Hokatiwi)
They can’t fuck with me
Ha-ha, ayy
Ayy, ShittyBoyz

Two straps on, crazy that I’m sliding in some Pradas
Looking like the Spetsnaz now, Stone Island balaclava
If we get our hands on some missiles, we gon’ probably bomb him
Know yo pops mad he ain’t spend a dollar on a condom
Turned his ‘fro red, we just put the Dennis Rodman on him
Lil’ eager bitch sucked the dick then put on the bonnet
Head so heat in this bitch, got a body on it
Chop sing, see a opp and up the Sterl Gotti on him
You gon’ break yo neck diving in, you ain’t deep enough
Done fighting Wock’, drunk a cup and it beat me up
Fuck around and swing on a bitch if she don’t swing the blunt
Fucked around and made ten before I ate my Reese’s Puffs
Sleeve Nash, alley-oop, shit, I went two for two
When I wake up, first thing I say is usually rude
Could’ve telled the truth, told ma I was shooting hoops
I ain’t score a bucket in a while, I was shooting moves
Bitch caught me last week, guess what? I’m still cheating
I could be blind but an M, I think I’ll still see it
Death threats, I ain’t lose shit, bitch, I’m still sleeping
Filled the money counter last night, this bitch still beeping
No cap, man, I know some real demons
Catch a body, back to the corner like Darrelle Revis
Riding through Troy, sixth sense, I can smell Neiman’s
BabyTron losing? Lil’ bitch, that’s like Hell freezing
Lil’ bitch, that’s like you winning
‘Miri jeans like a graveyard, got some blues in it
Run it up, he can’t keep up, it ain’t no juice in him
We’ll leave his block looking like a fucking nuke hit it
Coach plays, keep the K, I should’ve went to Duke with it
Test tube’ll test her next week, it’s a new penny
Flashy, spin a bitch and fuck around and juke with it
Really finna have him sick, I hope he has some soup with him
Huh, okay, yeah, okay, okay
RIP Hamilton, hollow tips, they done broke his face
They don’t trust you in the clutch, you gon’ blow the game
Bitch told me put the ‘Wood down, I’m just blowing pain
Feel like Donny Bands, woke up and threw on my chain
Gang still shining, all the dirt they threw on our name
Be yourself, dude, why you tryna swerve on my lane?
Promise I’ma end up on shore, put me on a plane
Hopping out the hotbox, bitch think the Scat on fire
You cannot one up a genius, I’m a strategizer
Me and Dre in LA, eighty dollar appetizer
Better pay yo BM back ‘fore she flash yo tires
Been earned my stripes ‘fore I ever came Adidas fit
I ain’t need shit to hit the bitch, you gon’ need a fifth
Bitch, I’m a ShittyBoy, of course I’m a piece of shit
Deep down inside yo best friend want some piece of this
And her head a thumbs up, she could’ve got two
Tapping on my shoulder in the store? You could’ve got blew
Pulled up missing all yo jumpers, could’ve cop [?]
Sick as hell of the opps, man, I should’ve, achoo
And you loose, soft as hell, should’ve robbed you
Glock 23 slam dunk, it got LeBron moves
I’ma come Moose Knuckle, Moncler, and cop Goose
I ain’t bust no fucking llama open but I got loot
Coupe don’t got backseats but it got zoom
Bitch know I’m a dog, pull up and I got groomed
We gon’ pull up deeper than a bitch, I hope you got troops
One thing I love about myself is I am not you
I am not him, copy that? We are not shrimps
We’ll pull up dropping shots off that’ll rock gyms
Man, here go my bitch calling right now
Oh, you wanna know where I’m at? Bitch, I’m locked in

Yeah
Ha-ha, yeah
They can’t fuck with me, they never could but I guess I gotta tell y’all one more time
Yeah, okay
Yeah, ShittyBoyz
Ayy, ShittyBoyz, ShittyBoyz, ayy