BabyTron – MySpace Lyrics

BabyTron – MySpace Lyrics

MySpace Lyrics By BabyTron

[Intro]
(Damjonboi)

[Chorus]
Bitch, I had a status before Tom added my MySpace
Condo out the way, when winter hit, I’m finna migrate (Brrrt)
My plays, my weight, my chains, my pape’, my eights, my drank
You wish that you was me, don’t you?
Fly way the highway, pint help me hydrate
Got the game on lock, a hundred M’s, I got the key for you

[Verse 1]
You ain’t a stacker, you got zero like Hector Zeroni (Shit)
Clip glued to my pelvis, I step into Coney (Brrt)
Lil’ brodie Kenny Smith how he jet in the stoley (Skrrt)
Olympian, shit, how I’m feeling, my necklace a trophy
VVs got me chilly, shit, I caught the sniffles
J. Crawford, score a four off the dribble
In that Bat Mobile, we spinned the block, they tryna solve the riddle (What?)
Too official, all I’m missing is a ball and whistle
Shit, I’m speeding in the Demon, it’s not a Camaro
Living like the mob, Goodfellas, I’m Robert Di Nero (The boss)
Rocking all this gold, I’m on top like a pharaoh
Pull up to the spot to get some gas, this is not the Valero
When I’m rocking apparel
Yohji Yamamoto, boy, I be dropping dineros
Robbing through the hood, you might get shot with an arrow
I was Prada’d up, double strapped, you was rocking some Aero (Yeah, yeah)

[Chorus]
My plays, my weight, my chains, my pape’, my eights, my drank
You wish that you was me, don’t you?
Fly way the highway, pint help me hydrate
Got the game on lock, a hundred M’s, I got the key for you

[Verse 2]
I’ma give it all I got ’til I drop
Fell asleep halfway, couldn’t even kill my pop
Boy, this bitch filled with Wock’
Gloves on, fill the chop
It could be ten years, bitch, you know you still an opp
Ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, look, bitch
Spikes on the Loubs look like a porcupine
Feel like D. Mitch, flying ’round with the .45
Two and a half pints, we poured up like forty lines
Amphetamines, opioids
Catch him riding luxury and get his Rolls-Royce destroyed
We gon’ park his shit
Out in Troy with a sixty on a Neiman Marcus trip
Shit, voices in my head, I feel like Randy Orton
Probably ’cause I’m off a ten, but brodie off the Xannies snoring

[Chorus]
Bitch, I had a status before Tom added my MySpace
Condo out the way, when winter hit, I’m finna migrate (Brrrt)
My plays, my weight, my chains, my pape’, my eights, my drank
You wish that you was me, don’t you?
Fly way the highway, pint help me hydrate
Got the game on lock, a hundred M’s, I got the key for you
[Verse 3]
Tripping on the road
Interview to a show, switching out my clothes
You ask the plug for twenty bags, I’m digging out the ‘bow
Cartis with the pointers, I got boogers dripping off my nose
Let me know, I’ll flick that switch and get up in that mode
All these Vanillas on me, feeling gifted in the store
Roadrunner, first dub, I did it in the O
Need a jersey that say, “Maravich,” how I pistol tote
Why the fuck he didn’t shoot? I think his pistol broke
Jordan every time I drop, bitch, I’m 6 and 0
Bitch, I been the GOAT

[Chorus]
My plays, my weight, my chains, my pape’, my eights, my drank
You wish that you was me, don’t you?