loaded up - rj lamont lyrics
[intro: babytron]
rj
rj always tripping, man
rj always tripping, man
aye, aye, aye, sh*ttyboyz
[verse 1: babytron]
off the runtz, grabbing ksubis, i’m at saks cooked
fraud god, i made eighty off this macbook
oh, the slides ain’t hitting? how the jacks look?
doing fraud, see more numbers than a math book
lil’ blasian b*tch p*ssy just like fiji water
stiff*arming hoes, touchdown like tiki barber
why you talking ’bout them scats? you ain’t seen a charger
bin fire, boy, this slide gon’ ping regardless
blessed with the gift, i got the x factor
made yo b*tch rub my feet, we had s*x after
bro doing wrist work till the [?] shatter
just made twenty off of chase, i’m a check master
[verse 2: sk!lla baby]
got kicked out of high school, ain’t have a prom date
bro was tiki, i was picking sh*t like ronde
i got a girl to my junkie like a blind date
i’m five ‘woods in, i’m high as the crime rate
b*tches love when i’m on stage, chains dancing
t**th f*cked up, don’t matter ’cause i’m handsome
i done hit [?] sh*t from [?] out of [?]
life got better, b*tch got badder
[verse 3: babytron]
got a dub on me, b*tch, i’m only nineteen
i’m sick of b*tches always asking can i swipe these
yeah, i might buy the if the price cheap
you gon’ catch every single bullet tryna fight me
i mean, sh*t, i hope that you can punch bullets
white boy shooting sh*t, feel like chris mullin
caught a splinter from the k, man, this b*tch wooden
all that money in her bank? yeah, i been took it
at the mall again, i’m a dior fiend
texting shane at saks, told him to dior me
and to the opps, lol, can you score please?
in the jungle, feel like simba, i was born king
[verse 4: sk!lla baby]
i cheated every test in high school, i cannot fake it
now the bad b*tches tryna look at my paper
[?] broke, stack it high like a skyscr*per
perc’ 10s make a n*gga morph like a power ranger
i’m loaded up, huh, took a nap, tryna sober up, huh
i see the state, boy, it’s posted up, huh
i’m in the h*llcat eating my [?] huh
i’m getting high, should’ve brought a new lung with me
tryna ball? n*ggas think mac mcclung with me
i don’t argue at all, we’ll pummel n*ggas
you know i be with all apes, it’s the jungle, n*gga
[verse 5: babytron]
both pockets got ten, double*double with me
i got stan and dee, double trouble with me
just left sam’s club, that’s another giffy
i was born with this sh*t, double hustle
sent a rocket out the thunder, i got russell with me
i don’t give a f*ck unless you got a f*ck to give me
i’m elevated, slam dunk, you not jumping with me
hustle dna, boy, i swear that sh*t pumping in me
[verse 6: sk!lla baby]
in rush hour, riding with the chris tucker with me
and these chinese fees, that’s the hustle in me
sk!lla chewing like gum, who gon’ bubble with me?
talking to me nice, save that for them other n*ggas
the hitman lowkey but highkey’ll drop something
as*salamu alayk*m, have [?] run up [?] something
you a dead man, have a dreadhead mop something
young n*gga wanna sell dope so he copped something
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