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peso peso - blanked out lyrics

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[intro: babytron]
whew, hey
sh+ttyboyz, dog sh+t militia, long live $cams, you know?
(jose the plug)
hey

[verse 1: babytron & peso peso]
i can put you on your ass, put you on your feet
put a b+tch on a leash, switch on the heat (huh)
n+gga broke than a b+tch, live on the street
just made a fifty in a week, blew that sh+t with ease
i got ricks on my feet, tricks up my sleeve
tell a trick that it’s plenty fish in the sea (huh)
caught what’s her name, i can’t have him hit for a p
iced out, finna go pull up on johnny dang
it ain’t nothin’ to spend a dub, man, that’s pocket change

[verse 2: babytron]
i gotta smoke and i just smell it, boy, i shop for taste
if it ain’t no sealed pints around, then i’ma shop for eighths
if the mall didn’t close, sh+t, i’d shop for days
mitten baby, hit the carti store, and then i shop for frames
mittеn baby, hutch or golden sun when i shop for chains
mitten baby, chop likе lamar, you can’t stop the rain
fordi hooked on the stillpane, he threw the wock’ away
roll an eight, then drop an eight just to concentrate
what i’m sayin’ is i need my geek kit to operate
before he get his head tapped, make him unlock the safe
[verse 3: peso pesos]
ayy, do it right now quick, n+gga, andale
don’t want beef, stay up out these streets, listen what your mama say
i got ‘za, got f’s, got lows, all kind of plays
i got ice, got south, got eights, all kind of j’s
i’m racked up with the bl!cky, rockin’ ricky on sundays
i’ll put a rick ross sack on your head for the gunplay
i’m in a fast car, and i’m still tippin’ on one ways
a n+gga talkin’ out his neck until they throw him a fundraiser

[verse 4: babytron]
i don’t know what’s dirtier, my fanta or my ex ho
dog food in h+llcats, you’d think i work at petco
bro sipped a ten, i scored a six, i’m in the endzone
think he f+ckin’ with us? then he laced, he in fent’ mode
one+night rental with these hoes, i don’t extend b+tches
bravados cost a rack, i’m tryna fit a hundred ten in ’em
we don’t buy the strikers just for show, we tryna bend in ’em
strags finna pull up, told him, “make sure that that h+ll with him”
juiceman on the way, i told him— huh
juiceman on the way, i told him make sure that that red with him
titi at the spot, i told her make sure that the meds with her
i don’t play the purple or the turtle, i’m a red sipper
i don’t play the purples or the ksubis, finna quit amiri
if she ain’t leanin’ towards the boogie side, then get the b+tch from near me
out in houston, dipped into the shroomies, now i’m zooted
at first, i didn’t speak no guapanse, but now i’m fluent
at first, i only had a hundred tucked, but now i’m foolin’
at first, i used to look for the assist, but now i’m shootin’
at first, i used to think about this sh+t, but now i do it
i can’t even teach you how to do it
[verse 5: peso peso]
one+two+three, lift off, rackin’ out the dome splitter
i need a rich b+tch only, you can call me a gold digger
yeah, they get to bag a b+tch, huh?
and my b+tch cheat one time
huh, just know i’m f+ckin’ on four sisters
look at the neck, look at the wrist, it’s a tidal wave
i’m ballin’ hard up in the b+tch like it’s a title game
got all these houses in my name, where i’m tryna stay?
playin’ and i pull up with that lead, get him dry+erased
the wise n+gga suit and tie, it’s a president [?]
got popped for a post, he ain’t know what he was steppin’ into
we put a chain in the game, better know that it get detrimental
you got a [?] wear, n+gga, know that you be flexin’ rentals
i’m with tron in the h, pull up twenty+nine
mad dog and get your face shot, get a n+gga fried
oh, what the f+ck you lookin’ at, lil’ n+gga? hit him in his eye
you ain’t never been a suspect, boy, always victimized
huh, i ain’t the type of guy you want your b+tch to run into
take her to the crib and have her eatin’ like a lunchable
you a grand hustler, couldn’t sell a p if you wanted to
talkin’ down up in the comments, but can’t show me not a buckaroo



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