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letra de hakeem - glockboyz teejaee & babytron

[intro: glockboyz teejaee]
(damjonboi)
yeah

[verse 1: glockboyz teejaee]
she just tryna f-ck me ’cause i’m havin’ money
i hit my n-ggas and i thank god because i’m havin’ motion
i done got cool with the plug, he’d probably front a hundred
you just be rappin’ ’bout the bag, ain’t never moved nothin’
i’m sippin’ drank like my nose runnin’, this an eight
if i ain’t had nothin’, i’ll have to take the food off your plate
tryin’ the trx, i’m in srt, we finna race
we left our main hoes at home and took the city girls on a date
i like tris’, i love wock’, i don’t really f-ck with quagen
i’m always outside with a b-tch, i don’t even got no lady
n-gga ever told you he did somеthin’ to me? they probably laced him
i likе blowin’ ‘woods back to back, tron be facin’
long nights, early mornings, i’m in the bank grabbin’ some money
i just need you to get to runnin’, while i drive us to kentucky
i was high as h-ll, ended up f-cking her once and now she love me
you ain’t never had no money, you’d probably make a ten if you lucky

[verse 2: babytron]
in my sleep, in my way, all these dreams i’ma chase
with some thieves, they’ll take, long sleeve, this a wraith
put some cheese on his brain, what’s the fee? i’ll pay
double team, i’ma fade, i’m hakeem in the paint
pourin’ three after three, when i pee, see an eight
why he askin’ all these questions? sh-t, i think he cia
everybody got they time, i know i’ma see my day
walk him down, pull my mask up, i let him see my face
sh-t, i’m with the glockboy, pass a faygo, i’m the wock’ boy
flashbacks of cash money, ridin’ with the hot boys
caught him out in traffic, make his whip rock like jonboi
dog sh-t militia, thirty foreigns, it’s a convoy
you worried ’bout the front and back, go check the side door
these ain’t mike amiris, i done switched to who decides war
bean keep the metal, you would think he was cyborg
better stop the playin’, don’t do nothin’ you could die for
[verse 3: glockboyz teejaee]
i can see it now, me and ferrari, tron in a lamb’
we used to break in cribs, now i be takin’ pictures with the fans
i wanna change my numbers, but my n-ggas locked up in the feds
my head hurtin’, sh-t, i wish they free the robber and lil red
woke up mad, i went shopping and bought some louis, made me feel better
just got off the phone with thick, they gave my boy a letter
fifty shots, it come out easy, and the ar got a sh-ll catcher
if he was really havin’ some money, i’d let the gang text him
dribble up the block, it’s like i run the whole hood now
every man for they self, we in the streets, this sh-t do or die
that bullsh-t-ass weed you smokin’, ain’t no way you high
you can just pass the ball to me when it be game time

[verse 4: babytron]
tryna score a bucket, turn his block into a black top
i can slit my wrist and turn the yola to a crack rock
i can use my luck and spin the wheel and win the jackpot
reachin’ in this duff’, you f-ck around and get your hands shot
fresh off of tour, right back to the booth
i just got them in the dubs, sh-t, it’s back to the blues
i’m the shooter and the driver, yeah, the ‘cat, it’s on cruise
we done won every game, check the stats, you gon’ lose
do my long wolfin’, then it’s to the pack with the food
off a yerky and a shroom, finna blast to the moon
babytron, you might catch me at the trap with some goons
get your auntie out the trap, she stealin’— off the spoon
[outro: babytron]
sbdsm, two l’s, then a dollar sign

- glockboyz teejaee babytron

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