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babytron - dirty glove lyrics

[intro]
(h+lluva made this beat, baby)

[verse 1]
unky weighing up work, he got some scales in the kitchen
getting up and getting to it, making sales, flipping digits
i can’t leave a bystander, put an l in the witness
boy, who the f+ck your jeweler ’cause he failed with your pendant
big body cullinan, might fish tail and get to wiggle
everybody sauce getting stale, please don’t get offended
akhi catching terabytes through the mail, might get a ticket
pouring quagy+agey in my gingеr ale, i’m feeling finished (h+lluva madе this beat, baby)
[verse 2]
don’t do woods, don’t do wires, the gang a herd of buffaloes
turn yo lil’ b+tch to gabby douglas, got her touching toes
spot like the texas roadhouse, it keep upping rolls (sh+t)
shout+out hutch, got ’em wondering how summer froze (f+ck)
all that b+tching? boy, you need some therapy
out of town with a beach view, i need some clarity
one of one sneaks on my feet, check the rarity
all this free pape’, sh+t, i need to start a charity (f+ck)
twelve month grind, i’ll show you true hustle (swear)
point it at his antlers since he got a moose knuckle
.308s, three hunnid blackouts, we don’t do tussles
got our balance right, we don’t do stumbles (h+lluva made this beat, baby)

[verse 3]
my mama say i got death on me (death on me)
this some fendi f’s and a check on me (check)
rip mari, it’s some pain that you done left on me
got a six thousand dollar ‘fit out somerset on me
finally went and got a gun, oh, you a body dropper?
f+ck a punch, i’m on the internet with some karate choppers
she thought the pop knocked her out until the oxy socked her
i can’t post everything i do ’cause y’all some hobby jockers (lame)
f+ck a three+five, i’m in here facing quarters
spot jumping like it’s spud webb, fiends placing orders
we’ll kidnap yo mans, we don’t play, we torture
they said my music crack like ‘caine to snorters (h+lluva made this beat, baby)
a b+tch gon’ do whatever i say
come through drip+dropping, boy, whatever i play
best believe the bullets hurting, boy, whatever i spray
i got more pull than yo boss so do whatever i say, huh
b+tch finally left, mm+hmm, good riddance
brodie on the road on his lone, that’s the wolf in him
air fryer on the chopstick, don’t get cooked with it
cuddy cook it like my granny, put his foot in it
fully blown bust down, i ain’t plain janing
you be nickling and diming, barely maintaining
i can have my blinker on, i still ain’t lane changing
take jesus for example, sh+t, they always hate greatness (h+lluva made this beat, baby)
[verse 4]
i need all the extras, i need all the extras
shooter hopping out that trail blazer, sh+t, i call him “drexler”
cuz got ’em hooked like kareem, sh+t, he brought some teslas
six plus with the scams, i could be a fraud professor
got it for the low, i sell it for the high
hitman kiss his barrel then he send him to the sky
sh+t, it’s all fun and games till some pressure get applied
play with one of mines? go and get some stretchers for yo guys
sh+t, i’m so high, planet earth what i’m looking at
at the point i’m at, h+ll nah, i ain’t looking back
sh+t, i’m on top now
color blind to red, nah, i can’t stop now (h+lluva made this beat, baby)

[verse 5]
yeah, no effort, buffed up like a pro wrestler
t+r+o+n, don’t forget them four letters
i don’t want the lil’ petty profit, i’m a wholesaler
tryna pick a fight with one of us? boy, you know better
going 140, it’s a m that i’m flying towards
b+tch+ass irritating clerk, i’ll buy the store
prime time, balling like the final four
finna level up, i ain’t in my final form

[outro]
sh+ttyboyz, dog sh+t militia
what’s the deal, h+lly?

- babytron lyrics

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