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letra de early bird - babytron

[intro]
(242)
sh-ttyboyz

[verse]
turned fifteen to a thirty, i ain’t even try
chopstick make me feel immortal, i can’t even lie
ran up a check in some sneaks i ain’t even tie
roadran down to the a, i ain’t even fly
swear to god y’all ain’t doin’ sh-t
try and cross me, nail him to it, get him crufixed
feelin’ too good in the strip, i done threw a strip
sh-ttyboyz, if you don’t know about us, better google it
i’ma flip the script if i hit the switch
2010, you was losin’ fights, boy, you been a b-tch
foreign kicks hit for a sleeve off a drippy ‘fit
we just found out what he lease, he better switch his whips
and if he don’t, we finna crack his taco
we be ballin’ еarly in the morning, you can ask alonzo
backpack boys, backwood, please don’t pass a fronto
plеnty shots for the both of y’all since your man so macho
they gon’ name the block after y’all
heard his last song, it had a whole lot of cap involved
you gon’ get that lil’ shot swat, better pass the ball
you was sleep, i was gettin’ to it at the crack of dawn
early bird gets the worm, don’t it?
third degree from the monkey nuts, i left a burn on ’em
i can get ’em k!lled for a verse, put some words on ’em
people stabbed me in my back, i would’ve never turned on ’em
but that’s alright, ’cause i learned from ’em
duke said, “you young as h-ll, the best and the worst comin'”
unky told me ’bout your unky, told me he ain’t serve nothin’
got the ups for real, you can catch me off the vert’ dunkin’
i can’t be f-cked with, but that ain’t nothin’ new
b-tch jaw dropped seein’ fifty, this ain’t nothin’, boo
thousand-dollar nikes on my pivots just for runnin’ shoes
f-ck an l, lately all i been seein’ is w’s
j-panese creme soda, turned it into jungle juice
runnin’ up on tip, guarantee we gon’ humble you
if we hear it’s bread on your head, we gon’ crumble you
stop talkin’ like we cool, dude, i don’t f-ck with you
sh-ttyboyz, but we ain’t number two
rapstar, remember when my songs was at a hundred views
firework, if i really could, i’d punch a coupe
sb for real, that’s the gang, b-tch, we stuck like glue
hundred deep, that’s a scary sight for any crew
lil’ freak b-tch, hoops in like she betty boop
crackheads, af1s, run it up in nelly shoes
talkin’ ’bout he want it head on, but i bet he juke
b-tch, i wouldn’t dodge beef in a h-llcat
roll the windows down, turtle pie, let ’em smell that
lookin’ at the pockets on them jeans, can you spell flat?
how is you a winner? you done took a thousand l’s, jack
been a hustler since birth, comin’ in with chip work
gold hutch chain, it look like when b-tter get churned
if that b-tch jam, better pray that other stick work
bro ain’t got no screws, he done brought the cutter in church
[outro]
yeah, huh, ayy
ayy, ayy, ayy
sh-ttyboyz

- babytron

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