Same Jimmy – BabyTron

Ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy (Helluva made this beat, baby)
ShittyBoyz
Ayy

Straight drop, drop, drop in exotic Fanta
They used to pick fights with me, now the choppa slam ’em
What you claim, brother man? Nah, that’s not the answer
Now you sick ’cause you heard yo bitch wants a scammer
Too bad I only like dimes
In a ghillie, in yo bushes when it’s nighttime
Sent some shots but you missed, mm-hmm, nice try
I ain’t never get shit in life for being a nice guy
Grab the K and pray to God ’cause I’m a face shooter
I’m in LA, I feel like Bron, yeah, I’m a play mover
Fuck fans now, back then I used to hate choosers
Same Jimmy back then, yeah, he used to hate losers
I was losing, they was winning, turn the tables on ’em
It ain’t a stick but best believe I’ll up the taser on ’em
Running off? Boy, that’s dumb, I’ll put the laser on ’em
Glock shoot fire like I came The Undertaker on ’em
Ayy, you want some, hold on, I can’t even say it
Unreleased too hard, I can’t even play it
Whole bow with zaza, I can’t even weigh it
P90 ain’t got no cooling, I can’t even spray it
“Who that white boy? “, bitch, it’s Tron, I got pool, bitch
Watermelon punch, Wockhardt, I’m on bullshit
Russian AK with the stock, it’s a full clip
Gave her good D, on some ‘011 bullshit
Looked her in the eyes then I lied, knew I wasn’t shit
7-3-4, 3-1-3, bitch, the oven Mitt
One out of one, I was chose, I’m the one for this
Good jack stack, touchdown, had the summer lit
Play with me? Mm-hmm, you playing with yo life
Apple pie on me, fuck I look like playing with a slice?
Ain’t no games in these streets, I’m playing till I die
She heard the ShittyBoyz and made me say it one more time
One puff, boy, I’m higher than giraffe nuts
Three more hits, boy, I’m flying up to NASA
Turn that bitch to a scammer, she a jack slut
Touch a hair on me? You gon’ get yo ass smacked up
Matter fact, you get snatched up
Bro’ll turn yo auntie to a zombie off some crack dust
This a 2020, that’s a shooter and y’all lapped up
I just spent twenty-five hundred on some black puffs
Three ‘Woods in, bitch, I’m faded like a dingy shirt
Would’ve came six, too bad I had a stingy clerk
You a hot head? Hope you got the torch up in yo hearse
Turn around, made twenty, bae, put it in yo purse
Hit yo bitch, get the neck, I ain’t eat the kitty
Fucked up in the head, I got some demons with me
Ten bows, a thousand giffies if I leave the city
My killer catch you on a school bus, got Jeepers Creepers with me
Lil’ bitch broke her neck when I came to [?]
I’ll blaze this bitch from long-range like I’m Damian Lillard
Bitches blowing up my phone, I had to change my hitter
Don’t wanna hit the mall no more, sick of taking pictures
Froze-ass buffs, fire-ass weed
Lil’-ass whip, boy, yo tires can’t squeak
Mama always asking, “What’s inside of that Jeep?”
MSR, embosser, and some sliders that beep

Ayy (Beep, bitch)
Ayy, huh
Ayy, and them bitches beep
Beep, ShittyBoyz