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babytron & t bone - boondocks lyrics

[intro: babytron]
ayy, ayy, ayy, b+tch

[verse 1: babytron]
i’m in the boondocks, ridin’ ’round with two chops
eighth of shrooms in the scat, that’s a boom box
f+ck them two chops, i got two glocks with two thots
how we finna play it? i got three pints and two pops
how the f+ck this finna go? it’s one burner, two pots
you and your mans, do the math, boy, that’s two cops
collateral, we let off one bullet, hit two tops
we ain’t aimin’ at your arm, you think these flu shots?
no nut november, so i’m overdoin’ it october
babytron been hip since he was scootin’ in a stroller
cuddy aka an earthquake, just moved another boulder
rat+tat+tat+tat+tat, i seen your name up in another folder

[verse 2: t bone]
the b+tch said i love her funny ’cause i never told her
that sh+t even funnier, ’cause i don’t еven know her
f+ck it, you might as well givе the gang coochie
’cause you the one in this b+tch actin’ like a groupie
lookin’ for a jt with my lil’ uzi
she said she only at the party for to shake her booty
jumpin’ out in gucci, truck on the ruccis
leave a n+gga gang runnin’, screamin’ out, “they shootin'”
your sh+t was boring from the start, get to the conclusion
if the boys get behind me, i’m fleein’ into luding’
walk around with blues on me like i got bruises
the b+tch asked me was i lyin’, i am not lucious
[verse 3: babytron]
go and get a glock, doofus, we’ll leave the block roarin’
you would think the drac’ came with a whoopee cushion
you would think the drac’ came with a whoopee cushion, it won’t stop pootin’
you can’t stop losin’, your b+tch, she can’t stop droolin’
can you please stop talkin’ ’bout some sh+t you not doin’?
shooter in the booth, he finna make some tap+a+top music

[verse 4: t bone]
this that sh+t you bob your head, shootin’, while you catch an opp to it
b+tch, what the f+ck? i’m ’bout to nut, i told you stop movin’
your first plan ain’t work, take a plan b
at the bottom of her bikini, she got cheeks like she sandy
drill turned him to some runtz, you ain’t never smoked this sh+t here
h+ll nah, you can’t hit my blunt

[verse 5: babytron]
put him in the trunk
i ain’t even wanna f+ck the b+tch, you put it in her b+tt
i’ma call you freaky freaky freaky freddy
really jimmy, that was tron, but the b+tch just think she met me
really been left the ho, but this lil’ b+tch just think she left me

[verse 6: t bone]
i’ll have unky snipe a n+gga like he wesley
even if your name was johnny, you wouldn’t test me
i’ll do a n+gga lethal with my new weapon
new money mean new blessings
[verse 7: babytron]
tryna think what you gon’ lie about, you in the booth sweatin’
you in the stu’ stressin, unky take a blue, press it
hundred+plus pairs, got a european shoe fetish
sh+t, i’m drivin’ too reckless, i’ma need ’bout two seconds, two+liter dirty
that’s a ’98 you ride around in, that two+seater dirty
couldn’t bust this nut if i was born to score, like, thanks to perky
why your b+tch just ask me for a kiss? i gave your bae a hershey
what, we finna start a quick match? you always changin’ jerseys
chain, chain, chain, chain, chains, these b+tches gettin’ st+rdy
drank, drank, drank, drank, drank, it got my vision blurry

[verse 8: t bone & babytron]
tryna tuck it ‘fore we go inside this club
ayy, gang, can you see the thirty?
knowin’ that they ain’t gon’ search me
your b+tch actin’ flirty, sprite look like kirby
all this b+tch do is gobble, she my lil’ turkey
i just bought a new jersey out in new jersey
i can trust my n+gga james, ’cause that n+gga worthy
n+gga, you a lame, i can see you down at the bus stop up on my plane
don’t want the audemars bust, i’ma get it plain
this b+tch must be from new york how she let these n+ggas run trains
try to sn+tch my n+gga chain, i’ma sn+tch your brain
four of stily, me and max just matched some ‘pane
how ironic, i’m sippin’ purple, ridin’ in the rain
[outro]
n+gga, what you want?
i want you over my house, cuttin’ my grass like you supposed to be
well, too bad for you, ’cause i just took another job
and even though they don’t pay hardly nothin’, workin’ for white folks look way better on my résumé
d+mnit, this is the fourth week in a row you’ve cancelled on me, the yard looks like a jungle
well, chim+chim, you three vine+swingers should feel right at home
i’ll be there when the white man don’t need me no more
now, let this be yet another reminder
that no matter how much money you got, you still just a n+gga

- babytron t bone lyrics

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