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h.o.f. deadeye - babytron lyrics

check, check
check, check
check
check, check, check
check, woke up, equipped the bl!cky on me
yes, b*tch took the d*ck and put a hickey on it
eating lambchops up at [?], just threw a billy on her
i’m the type to lay up in your bushes with a gilly on me
i got a ar
wouldn’t give a second to a b*tch, yeah, i break hearts
off the henny, b*tch, i’m ballin, i feel like j.r
bro deadeye hall of fame, you can’t guard
i asked her what she like about me, this b*tch done grabbed my d*ck
wocky in my kool*aid, i’m in storе and i’m jammin chips
playing with my gang, boy this sh*t can get disasterous
doing 140 on the lodgе, i’m mr. crash the whip
god d*mn, this was a rental
you be in the middle, play with me, i leave them in the spittle
givenchy tee with the, i’m drippin like a kettle
promise it ain’t incidental, pull up, let the fifty him him
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, shoutout scamley
enterprise; they done f*cked around and banned me
ubereats; they done f*cked around and banned me
god d*mn walmart done f*cked around and banned me
expedia; like, sh*t, what you think they did?
think again if you dummies thinking we ain’t get it in
i got a white boy shooting sh*t, something like porzingis nem
f*ck the curb, this a h*llcat speeding in
when i cash two rollies, i’m posing with my wrists up
oh your girlfriend, boy, you know i got my d*ck sucked
when it’s on the floor, boy, you’re supposed to pick up
exotic pop with the wockhardt, it make me hiccup
how it feel sitting in that blender, one press’ll spin you round
2012 billy trues on, skinny jeans now
amiri fiend, thinking, “how i punch these jeans, huh”
off*white plus heron on me, i’m a fiend now
it’s crazy, you can’t stomach what i seen when i was little, man
got my ex*b*tch fired off a lil scam
her lil dirty ass, man, like i give a d*mn
got two beats from yo uncle, threw them in the spam
you lookin at my fists, like bullets don’t exist
big warriors round me, on my chris mullin sh*t
i was sitting back, thinking “ain’t no scams that don’t exist”
you better have that slapper on you if you coming bony, b*tch
getting head with my feet on you table, drop a sock on it
i’m pj flying, wocky in the c*ckpit
looking at the opps like, “how y’all dropping if we drop sh*t?”
looking at my b*tch like, “how you mad at me she want d*ck?”
[?] all yours, unless i’m out in bali with some models
shoutout to [?], b*tch i’m miri sagging, popping bottles
little kitty cat get wet when she ask about us
scrumble man, gucci snake stepping, ain’t no anacondas
used to wanna hoop, now i’m shooting scams and coaching plays
how many jacks? how many midrange derozan made?
i’m too up now, phone slapping, i’m ignoring hate
b*tch, i’m in the deep, they just praying that my snorkel break
i heard they wanna k!ll me, b*tch, i’m too ready
2020, 2020, yeah, b*tch, that’s two chevy’s
130, i got 40 on me, b*tch, i’m too heavy
tron for re*election, lil b*tch, i’m dropping two prezis
this a fiji water, i can’t drink it out the tap
your b*tch freaky, boy, the only the thing you freaking is some blacks
bro’ll line you up like a barber, tiki for that bag
see the hate in my rifrials, i’m reaching for the bag
i got a little magic, i’ll show you some; d.j. augustin
gave your b*tch 100 [?], like bring them all to me
you asked, “how i get my money?’ like, fraudulently
asking me a question, you get shot, don’t talk to me
triple s stomping, you get popped, don’t walk with me
off your set with my migos, cardi b
sit your ass on that bench, you can’t ball with me
aye, h*ll nah, you can’t ball with me, b*tch

- babytron lyrics

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