2am in dallas - j1hunnit & babytron lyrics
you’re not making this easy, kyle
b*tch
yeah
huh, yeah
(verse 1: babytron)
amiri saggin’, i be walking round with heavy paper
shooter get like damy, get to bussin’ out the chevy blazer
she can’t turn around from turning round cause i already paid her
i knew i win when i didn’t have a pot to p*ss in
i was optimistic
burning hoes in the foreign, treat it like a honda civic
(?) rock, she gotta get it
in texas, play after play, i’m out here popovichin’
ain’t no quali in my coffee cup, it’s wock up in it
so much wocky in my cup, forgot it’s pop up in it
5’7, put it down to show you that i got them b*tches
when you was washing dishes, i was hopping fences
why the f*ck you in thе mall if you ain’t shopping in it?
i could triple up if i just put it in the pot and spin it
talking ’bout he hitting buckеts, i just watched him brick it
throw dog on fake watch busta, all his watches (?)
(verse 2: j1hunnit)
them bands got my pockets too fat, fred (?)
we up enough to put an m on his head and turn to majin
me and brody talkin real spicy like tajín
it’s two hoes and one j1hunnit, we ménagin’
i told em this an us thing, gon’ like monogamy
i’m riding behind 5 percent tint, the seats massaging me
the unemployment gone, the sh*t that f*cked up the economy
the man with the method, i sell sauce but not the condiment
i’m almost out the game and the feeling is astonishing
the fans scream my name and they praising my accomplishments
i’m hard on a b*tch, i don’t ever give her compliments
i told her put the money in my hand, i wanna fondle it
i’m balling so hard, they wanna box me, nate robinson
seen an opp and swung a chair at him like jonathan
my plug charging 5 for the eagle like donovan
i told em we could get 10 for it if unc’ tumble it
(verse 3: babytron)
turning in early, 20 jacks and a ps5
your jeweler got you looking crazy, boy, i see (?)
thousand shots turn your function into csi
ocean view, open the blinds for a piece of mind
(verse 4: j1hunnit)
face card got a n*gga moving like a secret spy
i think i’m finna fly to cornwall, i wanna see st. ives
put a n*gga head on a stick, lord of the flies
them guys put some green on his top like sprinkled chives
(verse 5: babytron)
(?) robbers in your crib, they finna walk you to the safe
for a dub, had habibi stalking out his place
my ears don’t work unless you tryna talk about some pape’
fresh to death like i done hopped up out a coffin in this bape
(verse 6: j1hunnit)
i’m in the spot advertising real blow, my n*gga, not the vape
i’m experienced with the wrist, i know how to flip a crate
i used to scr*pe up change, now it ain’t sh*t to sell a tape
them n*ggas hard on the ‘gram but really wouldn’t bust a grape
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