vibranium - lando bando, babytron & prince jefe lyrics
[intro: babytron]
live from the lab
what’s the f*cking deal, bando? you know what the f*ck goin’ on
(ooh, sh*t, that’s a danny g beat)
(danny g on the beat)
(it’s lando, your b*tch know, don’t let your b*tch go, n*gga)
[verse 1: babytron]
lookin’ for some—, i ended up on daisy lane
took a razor, left the blade bald*headed, lady jane
would’ve thought his pistol modded, brodie got some crazy aim
why you out here tryna merge in mine? it’s like eighty lanes
more water on my neck than the aquarium
two chops, kane and undertaker, finna bury ’em
put the scams down, i thought i’d marry ’em
sks, shoot it from my chest, shawn marion
off the juice spittin’ flames, call the fire station
they was deep sleepin’ on me like a hibernation
now they know babytron through the entire nation
back*to*back v10s, we in some vipers racin’
get a chance and take it
fly as h*ll, but i’m finna try and land the sp*ceship
sh*t, i’m hangin’ with some aliens
play with us and knock the thoughts out his cranium
[verse 2: j1hunnit]
green tip bullet can penetrate through vibranium
you can tell i push weight, my chest jigglin’ like dame and them
put the squeeze on a kid, he think his b*lls are titanium
i walked in with two hoes on me like pinky
i can spot a wh0re quick, her weave look crinkly
she did a thousand d*cks in her time like pinky
i told her get her bag up some more and she can link me
i like hoes that got a lot to bring to the table
i been lookin’ for a stallion i can bring to the stable
i don’t sell dreams, i ain’t good at tellin’ fables
i can promise you i bring the bacon home if i’m able
[verse 3: prince jefe & ghetto baby boom]
spin, tear your block up
if the police get behind this car, still won’t stop nothin’
my young n*ggas don’t wanna look for jobs, we just go opp huntin’
foreigns on the block like it’s prom, but this ain’t ’bout nothin’
in the field, i’m route runnin’
say my name, them shots comin’
i ain’t gotta reach, send a freak to get the drop for me
drac’ under the seat, not the trunk, ain’t gotta pop nothin’ (don’t worry ’bout it)
n*ggas like to tweet like they me, never drop nothin’ (yeah)
[verse 4: ghetto baby boom]
clumsy*ass n*gga left his mama tryna run (look at him)
only thing you ever dropped, p*ssy n*gga, was a gun (lame*ass n*gga)
they like, “ghetto baby, you a pit, how the f*ck you link with them?” (okay)
uh*huh, you ain’t heard? n*gga, i be in the ‘burbs
soon as you catch an opp, just throw the alley*hoop, b*tch, give me word (tellin’ you)
that’s his mama crib? don’t give a f*ck, she better go to church
i’m tellin’ you, them bullets penetrate through you, them b*tches hurt (i’m tellin’ you)
you ain’t tryna get no money, you better go to work (better do)
real street n*gga, i’ll trap this b*tch out to the first
soon as they thought this sh*t was over, came back, yop, made it worse
n*ggas thought this sh*t was over, told them n*ggas, yop, i told ’em
mhm, n*gga, real soldier
[outro]
(ooh, sh*t, what the f*ck, daniel?)
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