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letra de mma - allstar jr & babytron

[intro: allstar jr]
(enrgy made this one)
(ooh, sav k!lled it)
let’s get a what?

[verse 1: allstar jr]
send a blitz, he seein’ ghost in the backfield
shoot at his feet, he a ho, make him tap dance
you a d-ck sucker, let you tell it though, you tapped in
i’ll big truck in, pedal lightly when i back in
grab the thirty just to come out with the kids
boy, my pop dirty as a bum under a bridge
you ain’t never even touched the type of money on your head
payin’ over sticker price, my n-gga only wanted ten
i’m getting ‘bows on a flat bed
came a long way from floors with the crackheads (long way)
might not makе a million rapping, but the trap will
so i don’t give a motherf-ck about no backеnd, bag life
pay attention, show you how to cook a slab right
way this b-tch hittin’, show you how to wear a flashlight
all my son tuition, counted forty thou’ last night (b-tch)
don’t go on mission, that’s the n-ggas that’s gon’ crash out
[verse 2: babytron]
brodie got a jack in there, we ain’t talkin’ off the jail phone
catch an opp, sn-tch him up, and tie him to the railroad
or pour some gas on him, spark a ‘wood, and throw it at him
dub for a face shot, ten for an open casket
i’m talkin’ hoppin’ out the tree, i really know assassins
goat status, you can go and ask ’em
locked in on my own island, alcatraz
touched down in the a, i snuck it in a falcons bag
walter white with it, unky cook it up like malcom dad
fairy tale life, i’m just blowing fire dragon bags
get him out of here, he say whatever with his random ass
blowin’ rasta with my ganjas, mia in little haiti
b-tch said i’m crazy, i spent eighty on a lil’ eighthy
four pockets full up off the rap, i feel like lil baby
backpack celine, i grab the birkin for my lil’ lady

[verse 3: allstar jr]
jesus, believe me, i’m pleased to get even
way i been slidin’, bro, it is me a visa
me and tron mario, luigi, we squeezing
rare smoke, airin’ n-ggas out, make him bleed then
you wanna talk money? lil’ n-gga, talk then (say something)
i don’t walk in the bank, ho, i get walked in
get your mans out the way with his lost ass
you can be anything, n-gga, be a boss then
[verse 4: babytron]
poured three sixes like the mafia
i’m an orca in that water, y’all tilapias
truck bulletproof, you can try to pop me up
what your rent cost, i paid it on a wocky cup
and your car note cost a t-shirt that’s helmut lang
when i’m in that room for a forty-eight, won’t tell a thing
like, tell ’em i can’t even spell my name
my b-tch in some loub’ heels, trippin’ like she ella mai

[verse 5: allstar jr]
he tryna make say cheese, i’m tryna make pape’ (he a clown)
dee don’t know no letters in between a, k
you in a scat on grand river in a fake chase
i’m in beverly on mulholland tryna wraith race

[verse 6: babytron]
scam star, all these punches, you would think it’s mma
how the f-ck your buffs real? you can bend the frames
three seconds left, time out, i’m finna end the game
face shot family, i hope they got a vest for brains

[verse 7: allstar jr]
i’m in the louis checker lane
rockets or a texas game
pistons or the lions, courtside with that fryer (pole)
used to cop from the n-gga, now i’m his supplier
sellin’ everything
zelle, cash app, it’s whatever, gang
[verse 8: babytron]
we both got two feet, but we don’t step the same
mike amiris on me or it’s yohji yamamoto
horses in my hood, i ain’t never rockin’ polo
got that cannon with the flash, i ain’t finna crop a photo

- allstar jr babytron

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