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letra de d$m on the radar cypher - babytron, t bone, mjpaid, fordio & beannskii

[intro]
(meech)

[verse 1: t bone]
give a opp nightmares like i’m freddy krueger
i’m makin’ money on my cpu and i got a couple users
just took your b-tch out and she pull my d-ck out
if i pull the chopper out, let’s see who gon’ throw a fist now
doggie got a couple thousand thinkin’ he a rich guy
how the f-ck you don’t got no money, but you get high?
spend thirty on my vvs, you wearin’ sis
chop bullets hit his body up, knocked out his insides
doggie askin’ did i f-ck his b-tch, i did it ten times
even though this b-tch fire, i’m still not gon’ spend a dime
i’m gettin’ money layin’ down, bustin’ down the time
i can hear his watch tick-tick-tickin’, think it got a bomb

[verse 2: fordio]
just pushed twice, i’m tryna push again before midnight
i find it crazy, if i don’t sip a deuce, then i don’t feel right
you n-ggas lazy, boy, get in the field, see what the risk like
got used to the wrist, been in the field, i live a jugg life
got out the mud and there’s mud in my sprite
been on the run for a couple months, sh-t, all i know is swipe
i still get busy with the punch, but it’s the drugs i fight
run it up and put it up, hope you take my advice, you know?
don’t be with [?], [?] tryna up the score
don’t be with [?], [?] tryna up the score
don’t be with [?], [?] tryna up the score
don’t be with [?], [?] tryna up the score
[verse 3: mjpaid]
we got pints in for the low, b-tches f-ckin’ on the low
couple bands on your head and we gon’ pay her for the lo’
sixty blues in my denim, d-mn near feelin’ like a loc
“you so slimy,” yeah, i know, we got maggy, don’t approach
i’m on camera in this style sh-t, i might strike a pose
i be quick to let her go, no, i don’t fight with hoes
and i know a couple n-ggas don’t know right from wrong
i like his b-tch, ’cause i swear she got the trifest dome
off of mud, slurrin’ words in my microphone
exotic ‘bows, soon as he heard the price, it’s sold
the scams flow, sh-t, i get it in and get it gone
i’m not trippin’ how i go, all this sh-t is [?]

[verse 4: beannskii]
yeah, okay
skinny black n-gga, i craft the rock like bo bo
any threat to the militia get your ass smoked
turtle pie and dead n-ggas the only thing i roll
b-tch, the chopper tweak a n-gga, he hit the red nose
you know bean a sleaze, i’m sugar-free to these d-mn hoes
i’m geekin’ off these drugs, i’m tryna get higher
when i mask up, see redrum like michael myers
the chopper steam his tee like he fresh out the dryer
my shooter ready to crash, he love that gun fire
i done did it on my own, all i do is trap
i bet my roster let that chop spit like crunchy black
my unky hit your unky with that, you can’t get him back
[verse 5: babytron]
we on the radar like they finna send a cl-ster strike
believin’ anything the b-tch’ll tell you, you still trust her, right?
yeah, i heard his last song, that b-tch hard on mute
young as h-ll, ballin’ for the blues, you’d think i start on duke
hit her with the rizz then i hit her with the jizz
drop some wock’, watch it fizz, get him popped like a quiz
standin’ on top the biz, dress shoes and the socks
free lil’ cuddy, caught him with the pressed blues and some rocks
victorious, i got the paper stacked up tall as wembenyama
negotiatin’ prices with carlito over enchiladas
counted through five hundred thousand pesos ‘fore i left mi casa
cut the traction off and do the foolie in an empty plaza
sh-t, i woke up in the jungle, but it ain’t jumanji
think that they done made a lil’ wave until we came tsunami

[outro: babytron]
(meech)
sh-ttyboyz, dog sh-t militia, long live $cam, you know?

- babytron t bone mjpaid fordio beannskii

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