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trdee & babytron - johnny dang lyrics

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[verse 1: trdee]
hand me the [?] treat a ten like a six
what y’all hoes want? y’all smoke or want a fifth?
ain’t no night spending, use yo legs or call a lyft
double [?] on me, come and get a sniff
she know i’m finna k!ll it when i say i’m finna get behind
on a bad day, me and tron’ll still [?]
i’m just living life ’cause you know that you can’t hit rewind
you can hit it too, ain’t no need to call the p+ssy mine
tron called the bank, told her that we coming with a load
b+tch, i’m made of steel, to my n+ggas, i can never fold
n+ggas biting styles, stealing swag, kinda feel like [?]
how the f+ck is you down to ride? you ain’t never drove

[verse 2: babytron]
how the f+ck is you down to slide? ain’t never shot a gun
you only caught two or three jacks, that is not a run
exotic puff make me go, i got toxic lungs
looking like you far from a bag, better hop in one

[hook: babytron]
where my lighter at? i ain’t high enough
where my writer at? i ain’t swipe enough
no, you can’t get higher, you don’t drive enough
finna punch some forces, these ain’t white enough
sliding with a punch, f+ck around and call me “tronny k”
iced up, high as h+ll, looking like i’m johnny dang
and i’m skating like i’m on a rink
and i’m skating like i’m on a rink, it’s a hockey day
[verse 3: babytron]
punch [?] i’m addicted to hibachi place
my young dawg’ll pull up shooting sh+t like he bronny james
six on a puppy, mad as h+ll that it ain’t potty+trained
got that one drip, this ain’t sh+t that you can copy paste

[verse 4: trdee]
b+tch bad, kinda rude, she ain’t got a waist
i just tell her bend it over, i ain’t tryna taste
and i slam dunk in it, feel like dr. j
did i mention that she kinda look like lisa ray?
top down, wind in my face, what the haters say?
always on my grind like come and see how do the skaters play
looking at this bin like, d+mn, this package full of heavy weight
reaching for a chain? he better have a hundred on replace

[verse 5: babytron]
big money, good d+ck, this b+tch gon’ let me do whatever
bro ain’t got no brain in his head, he’ll shoot whatever
dee like, “how you hitting all yo shots?”, i used to hoop, remember?
lil’ b+tch tryna act like me, now we rude together

[verse 6: trdee]
bubblegum in the ‘wood, you hit it, it’s gon’ hit back
louis v do+rag on, designer belt to mismatch
hoes come in seven twos, they something like a kit kat
overhype p+ssy, i be wishing i ain’t hit that
i be dragging bags like a face but that’s not the case
we could try to run it up together, you would rather race
tron like kobe with the ‘wood, he would rather face
these some basic+ass air maxes, it’s about the lace
[hook: babytron]
where my lighter at? i ain’t high enough
where my writer at? i ain’t swipe enough
no, you can’t get higher, you don’t drive enough
finna punch some forces, these ain’t white enough
sliding with a punch, f+ck around and call me “tronny k”
iced up, high as h+ll, looking like i’m johnny dang
and i’m skating like i’m on a rink
and i’m skating like i’m on a rink, it’s a hockey day



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