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babytron - 1-800 lyrics

[intro]
hey, sh+ttyboyz, dog sh+t militia
long live $cam, r.i.p chris, t+double+h+l sh+t, you hip, skip?
(don’t you know you won the lotto?)

[verse]
hit the a in april, i might stay until the end of may
big brib, not no bnb nor an extended stay
i don’t post the pape’ i make, but it’s ’bout ten a day
the only reason that you up ’cause you don’t spend no pape’
and i understand, but bust a rubber band
boy, you wouldn’t catch a hat if you had double hands
whole bowl of zagaza, i’m leavin’ from the m+ffin man
foreign fit from buckhead, you would think this b+tch from buckingham
chrome heart snap back, i’m looking like a trucker, man
i done overdid the drank and hit the stutter dance
pockets, they obese, just call me blubbеr man
i be sleep a week straight, i can’t trust the xans
cut the flashlight on, i don’t trust thе purps
cut the sp+ceship on, i ain’t been trustin’ earth
he was getting over+tough and now he stuck in dirt
they told me, “lay off the spray”, but, sh+t, i’m stuck on terps
banned from every rental brand, sh+t, i’m f+cked on hertz
boy, i don’t sip no f+ckin’ turtle, boy, i’m slumped off purp’
unf+ckwithables, nah, this ain’t no gumbos, nerd
dudie bone a fiend just like bubbles doing undo work
when we ain’t got no work, sh+t, our custo’s jerks
dub just to redo the interior, my truck berserk
we need scripts on top of scripts, i need a custom nurse
cuddy pressin’ rp’s, he makin’ custom percs
i bet that b+tton thang put you on a custom shirt
we’ll leave his body cut in two, he need a custom he+rs+
f+ck the funeral, f+ck the pastor and f+ck the church
i’m mixin’ trizzy with some alcohol, this jungle syrup
you ain’t built for this b+tch, please get up out the jungle, sir
you ain’t really in the trap, boy, that’s yo’ uncle work
you ain’t really gettin’ trim, boy, that’s yo’ uncle shirt
you a f+ckin’ twerp
if the punches don’t work, we might jump the clerk
sh+t, 1+800+stump+alert
he ain’t got a dollar on him, 1+800+bum+alert
yo’ b+tch got some super+head, 1+800+cum+alert
rerocked him three times, 1+800+dumb+alert
took his bl!ck three times, 1+800+punk+alert
b+tches talm ‘bout shot+o+clock, 1+800+drunk+alert
turkey bag terrorist, 1+800+skunk+alert
oh, the block slamming? 1+800+unc+alert
she showed me y’all texts, sh+t, it’s 1+800+lunch+alert
you ain’t popped out in years, ha
you ain’t popped out the crib in years, this a 1+800+chump+alert
we just loaded up the site, 1+800+punch+alert
we just loaded up the site, 1+800+dump+alert
i be throwin’ ho’s out like paper
broke her down and crumbled her, i ain’t really even spend a month with her
[outro]
(1+800, you a b+tch, stay away)
(1+800, you a snitch, stay away) (don’t you wanna win the lotto?)
(aye, sh+ttyboyz, $bd$m)
(troncic, 77, troncic, 77, troncic, phew)

- babytron lyrics

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