10 toes wherever - babytron lyrics
10 toes wherever lyrics
[intro]
mmh
i was up workin’
ayo, mark a
[verse]
i was up workin’, you was probably sleep procrastinatin’
they done turned me up wit’ the hate, now i’m activated
facecard really scorchin’, i ain’t just actin’ famous
i was even ballin’ in the beaters, feel like calvin cambridge
doggie song had more cap than a graduation
presis on his head, get him blew like a stack of franklins
thinkin’ he a demon, f*ck around and send his ass to satan
crib big as h*ll, even the yard in the back is sp*cious
i be blowin’ za’, you smoke reggie miller
dogsh*t militia, sh*tty boyz, we some heavy sh*tters
nails, bundle in the purse, i ain’t petty wit’ her
one eye open in the kitchen, bro a fetty whipper
this ain’t 17*38, this some wockhardt
shooter got like thirty*sum’ badges, this is not park
what i drop last?, sh*t, go and check the top charts
knock him out that new chrome hoodie, chop’ stop hearts
jackman, catchin’ bricks like i’m jonas valančiūnas
in that fast thing, off a dirty soda actin’ stupid
my mans backdoor me, hope that i ain’t have to do it
was an evil kid, young tron was a bad influence
n0body does it better, sh*t, dog, i feel like snoop
four*figure cup, better not let me spill my juice
mr. big shot, i get like when billups shoot
twenty deep in bape hoodies, i’ll let them ‘rillas loose
blowin’ bands in my stone island, someone take a pic
buffs lookin’ like alfredo on my steak and shrimp
out in cali, flyin’ down rodeo in the latest sh*t
gotta mow the grass if i see the snake in him
yeah, you got on mike amiris, but it ain’t no pape in them
they ain’t one of us, gang, gang, we can’t hang wit’ them
diamond in the rough, now i’m in the booth makin’ gems
they in arms*reach, i ain’t even really chasin’ ms
doggie wanted za’, gave his ass shaking and hemp
smokin’ gary payton, this month i done made a kemp
waitin’ till he leave the crib, hitman done made a tent
why you flashin’ on the ‘gram, but out here late on rent
why you in the club feelin’ good?, you finna get evicted
call of duty sh*t, backpack, six pistols in it
baby*drac’, it got some missiles in it
tornado mode in the demon, b*tch, i’m spinnin’ in it
talkin’ big money, but your bank ain’t got a nickle in it
in that widebody, freewayin’, tryna wiggle in it
talkin’ ’bout a plug, you the monkey in the middle wit’ it
habibi up that paintbrush, he finna scribble wit’ it
ridin’ ’round in that droptop wit’ no worries
clip hold curry
throw it out the window if they fl!ck us ’cause the pole dirty
zaza after zaza, vision so blurry
ten toes wherever, give a f*ck what’s goin’ on
thousand dollar coat, i just bought it, finna throw it on
fake ass kit that you wearin’, boy, you know you wrong
feelin’ c*cky, buffs on my face and i’m blowin’ strong
[outro]
ayy, sh*tty boyz
waddup, mark?, dogsh*t militia, yeah
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