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babytron & certified trapper - do the dishes lyrics

[intro: babytron]
whew
hey, sh+ttyboyz, dog sh+t militia, long live $cam, you know?
(hey)
if it’s up we gon’+, whew, ayy

[verse 1: babytron]
if it’s up we gon’ stomp him through the ceilin’
750 tucked only if you knew the feelin’
done leakin’ sauce, only thing they do is stealin’
gettin’ high i’m so fly, you’d prolly think i do the dealin’
the geek kit do the healin’
you won’t hear me with no pigs, let the whip do the squealin’
on the same side, let the bl!ck do the switchin’
make your bm sweep the floor, then it’s time to do the dishes

[verse 2: certified trapper]
the hoеs, the money, the cars and thе clothes come
stretch gang granny, with they opps she will fold some
brrt, mop, mop, mop, where you gon’ run?
b+tch givin’ top, top, top, it’s like foursome
panoramic roof in this b+tch, i can see the ‘burbs
blurred vision off the perc, i can’t read the words
i been puttin’ sh+t to work like it hit the first
n+gga wanna send a threat, make him eat the words
[verse 3: babytron]
boy, go to bed, don’t you need to go to sleep for work?
crazy i’ve been gettin’ blessed, i used to sleep in church (swear)
zombified, pour some red then i eat a perc (ah)
then take a shroom and chase it down with a three of perc (ooh)

[verse 4: certified trapper]
[?] i’m on demon time
what the f+ck you mean he ain’t dead? i’ve seen him die
put the f+ckin’ beam on your head, put green in eye
it’s either east or the north you either side

[verse 5: babytron]
blue strip bandit, for october, i’m a thumb cleaner
you would think i rolled up dirty socks every puff stinkin’
all that flirtin’, cut it out and come get stuffed stink
that trump money had y’all looking like a drug ring
but now it’s back to reality
you’ve ever seen a hunnid jacks stacked? that’s a masterpiece
you’ve ever seen a dead body? boyz n the hood
we use flips for the hits, we use ‘droids for the juggs
sh+t he losin’ all his juice, hit that boy with a plug
i just hit his boo, i think that boy need a hug
like he asked for a buck, i hit that boy with a slug
the way we step+steppin’ on him, thought that boy was a bug
the way we step+steppin’ on him, thought that boy was a rug
the way we step+steppin’ on him, thought that boy was the drugs, ayy
the way we step+steppin’ on him, ayy
the way we step+steppin’ on him, ayy, huh
[verse 6: certified trapper]
bring all the ones, we the boys in the club
with the fah+fah+fah, i’ll tear this b+tch up (brrt)
catch you in that car and i’ll that b+tch up (fah+fah+fah)
get her backstage and i bet that b+tch f+ck (ooh)
chains on my neck every one’ll get bust (whew)
rainbow hittin’ and these b+tches get sus
fap him in his leg and i guess got [?]
catch you lackin’ in the bed with your b+tch tryna’ f+ck

- babytron certified trapper lyrics

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