beetleborgs - babytron & cordae lyrics
[intro: babytron]
(bye kyle)
brr
[verse 1: babytron]
thinkin’ he nuts? ar do the vasectomy (brr, bah, boom, bah)
baccarat, creed, but i still smell the jealousy
hundred percent, you be giving it seventy
uppin’ my weaponry, searching for enemies (ayo, cordae, where they at?)
you can hear the redeye rumble like it’s anthony johnson
spent five at saks, i was casually shoppin’ (sh*t, sh*t)
got a sweet tooth for pape’, godd*mn, think my cavities rotten (sh*t)
fly as h*ll, ain’t no gravity options
outer sp*ce, in the galaxy watchin’
if you down, make a strategy, plot it
i don’t do the tris, sh*t, i’m happily wockin’
[interlude: babytron]
(try to ride this wave and get drowned, category 5)
(try to ride this wave and get drowned, category 5)
[verse 2: cordae]
yeah, ayy, try and ride this wave, no category
keep the glock 19, no statutory (woo)
call me “dexter,” how i stay in the laboratory
sh*t, i’d rather get high, watch rick and morty
what the gang and the trap, that’s negatory
my d*ck harder than a test, b*tch, take it for me
and i really got the juice, get naked for me
and if i can’t make you cum, you better fake it for me
never mind, end of story
i was just talking to my n*gga
he be hangin’ with gorillas in the middle of the winter like tarzan
now, i be chilling in the villa with some b*tches havin’ thriller
’cause i’m known to spit the fire like charmander
how i buy a new ferrari if a carvana
just bought a new crib out in tarzana
i’m the sh*t, i’m that n*gga, i’m the commander
i’m the sh*t, lil’ n*gga, no propaganda
[intro: babytron]
brr
[verse 1: babytron]
he think he big and bad ’til gang equip some masks and slide down like some beetleborgs
fiends ain’t got no diabetes, what you think the needles for?
when i smash the pedal in the ‘hawk, you hear some eagles soar (skrrt, skrrt)
yerkys got me booted like a car with a ticket
blood, sweat, and tears, goin’ hard, start to the finish
flying ’round iron attached, tony stark on the mission
moon rock in the stout, gon’ go to mars if you hit it
f*ck a money counter, i can add it up like archimedes
one of one, i see some fake replicas but it’s hard to be me
mister pull*up*make*it*boom (boom), try not to start habibi
think yo’ b*tch a zombie, when i come around she start to eat me
[interlude: cordae]
that b*tch start to eat me, hey
start to eat me, what?
b*tch, start to eat me
yeah, uh
[verse 2: cordae]
i’m a b*st*rd to father time, raised alone by mother nature
when they see you doin’ well for yourself, they love to hate you
i discovered paper, young brother covered a dozen acres
catch me courtside watching the clippers, i love the lakers
vanity chasing, ego fragile like anthony davis
i smoke a blunt and wonder why y’all n*ggas champion races
i’m handsome and favored, not to mention my pockets is chubby
really wish i met my idols, knew that pac would’ve loved me
stop sayin’ lucky, manifest a young god in the rugby
with the pumas that match, i’m stackin’ this lucrative cash
add enough to check for times, i couldn’t do good at math
could be stressing over life but i just choose to relax, motherf*cker
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