Space Jam – BabyTron

Hokatiwi

White sticks like I dipped the buffs in a milk carton
And the bitches got the nuggets too like I’m Will Barton
Four hundred dollar Chrome tee but I’m still heartless
I’ll have yo whole crew running like a drill sergeant
I ain’t on a pill trip, bitch, I’m on a jack run
Two phones slapping, had to throw away to tap one
Zaza after zaza, I got black lungs
Scoring through all the foul play, that’s a and one
Splash Bros, if I don’t pull up, I know Stan will shoot
Tripping in the coupe, finna crash like I’m Bandicoot
Miami Beach loft with a good great Atlantic view
Heard the clerk sweet like Kool-Aid, brought the jammers through
Chop with the flash, we’ll pause him like a photo
Told her, “We a secret”, I’ma dog her on the low low
Bitch wanna link, if we ain’t fraud then it’s a no go
Smoking out a two pound, balling like I’m Bol Bol
Fuck, this some Gotham Runtz
Undertaker, if I’m down, just know that I’m popping up
Yeah, I see you mugging ’cause you peeped that I dropped the buffs
Reaching? We gon’ swing sticks like the ref dropped the puck
Real road runner, probably won’t even stop for lunch
Talking like you stepping but I know that you not gon’ crunch
Whoop an opp to the Lord, bitch, watch me lob him up
Had to up my Jordan 1s so I went and copped a bunch
I ain’t gon’ stop till the kid got the GOAT status
Put the red beams on his face, he need Proactiv
I don’t need a stunt double, I’ll face my own action
I can score in two different fields like I’m Bo Jackson
Bitch cold so I threw a Moncler coat at her
And I think the bitch know voodoo, she a soul snatcher
Boy, stop rapping, you be talking shit that don’t matter
Cocky fuck since middle school, I been a roll flasher
Bitch friends ask where she at, told’ em, “With her date”
Smile tugging on the [?] brodie trigger happy
Out here, you going out bad but in Flint, you chatty
For the hundredth time, I hopped in and I zipped my baggy
No lag, 7.62s, they’ll flip yo Cady
Blowing out the new cookies pack, I be missing Cali
On telegraph with the scope, can hit a opp in Ypsilanti
Scored sixty out in New York, told the Knicks to draft me
Two hundred dollar sea food, finna make a mess
That ain’t olive oil when you see unkie apron wet
Chase hoes? Nah, I’d rather go and chase a check
Since you got a big heart, told bro to aim for chest
Bitch called me “broke”, told that ho they must’ve laced her meth
I don’t mean to dog hoes, you can go and thank my ex
We ain’t in the Hellcats tonight, catch us racing ‘Vettes
Loyalty so rare, won’t even let a bitch take my test
Off some chill shit, ran up a hundred in these pair of Crocs
Woke up with zero fucks to give, boy, I swear to God
Skrrt around, whip roaring like a Triceratops
Hitter brought the stick to San Fran like he Barry Bonds
Sealed pint, boy, I gotta charge you for every drop
Hustle dying wish, boy, my life wasn’t Fairy Odd
That ain’t Hutch, I see you grab that watch out of Jared’s box
Took my bitch OT and told her be prepared to shop
Melrose, Rodeo, back to back drip trips
Lauren London type bitch, blues on me, RIP Nip
Got it out the mud, in the hood like a dipstick
Cause thirtheen, he’ll pull up shooting off his RipStik
Ray Lewis, catch you with the bag, I’ma hit stick
Twenty thousand in the restaurant and didn’t tip shit
Lil’ light skin, lip gloss, don’t do lip stick
Bitch, I got a squad full of goons like I’m Trick Trick

Ayy, ShittyBoyz