Joe Dumars – BabyTron

(Getta Beats)
(It’s BlueStrip, baby)
(Yeah, ayy, ShittyBoyz)
Yeah
We’ll bring that to yo house, Joe Dumars
Okay, yeah, okay
Fuck around, yeah (ShittyBoyz)
Yeah (ShittyBoyz)

We’ll bring the field to your house, Joe Dumars
Put that dud down, I could pull that off of two cards
Shooting jacks out, passing bags, I’m a two guard
What’s up with the diss songs? Don’t know who you are
That’s the type of shit to get you stomped, no, probably shot
You could shoot a shot with my bitch, nah, probably block
Hundred shots left him Human Torched, we got his body hot
Soon as she wake up, she gon’ treat me like a lollipop
You got demon DNA? Oh, till you angel dust
Talking ’bout you need an eighth? Oh, I need eighty bucks
Site crazy, BIN crazy, just grabbed a crazy punch
I ain’t gon’ lie, if you ain’t us, boy, you lame as fuck
Wild ‘N Out, stay with the cannon like I’m Chico Bean
If you ain’t gang then it’s fuck you, bitch, I’m CeeLo Green
Looking at my pop like a scoreboard, I need a three
This a one dip, twenty seconds, I could flee the scene
It’s 2020, boy, you finished if you upping eight bands
That’s damn near his ass is blade dancing in some Ray-Bans
[?] one night, two bitches in the same trance
Stan got two sticks, he gon’ fire like a caveman
Tryna fight, must be from Atlanta, you a brave man
I be chilling, ain’t gotta get off, I let my chain dance
Cash App flips kinda slow but you’ll get paid, ma’am
See you got a lil’ money now but you the same ham
Eyes low, swinging sticks, I look like Ichiro Suzuki
I be tripping, Amiri stiching, dripping, this shit off the Gucci
Real scam vet, please don’t ever think that I’m a newbie
White sock, block a ham but, bitch, I’m Lillard when I shoot
I don’t trip up with the Visas, I’m a wizard when I use them
Put that bitch in drywall, boy, you see me, why your trigger neutral?
Can’t get you hip but you better go and get into it
Pro scammer turned to Pro Tools, I done switched to music
When you getting money, it’s like bitches getting hit by Cupid
Great credit score but I think this lil’ bitch is stupid
Every bitch turned they back on me somewhere in the sewage
Just know if I ever go, I’m up there getting to it
Just know your bitch only your bitch when she with you (Yeah)
Just know I’m Tron Wick, I’ll hit you with a pistol (Yeah)
Just know your main mans, he can’t even switch to (Yeah)
Just know I’m leaving hoes sick, get your tissue (Yeah)
In a store, tell a bougie bitch like, “Pick your Clear Fruit”
This ain’t Fornite but if it was, you’d be Tier 2
Art brought the Laffy Taffy in, I can’t hear you (Damn)
In my live off a fake page, you so weird, dude
Fear of God on, you dumb as fuck you think I fear you
Ain’t no hustle in your blood and I ain’t standing near you
Thirty-four shots, fuck around and Paul Pierce you
Talking ’bout a demon, really Saturn when you steer through
2000s baby, young as hell with oldhead money
Big bank take lil’ bank, cash on me, ten, dummy
Come and get your bitch, she irritating tryna vent to me
Lil’ bitch ew, got a man out here head hunting
‘018, me and Stan was in the Benz thumbing
Everybody talking down on me, I’m ahead of ’em
Mike Amiris got a big loaf, I heard you bread crumbing
Ca-California king, my ex bitch out here bed bugging