Letra de KILLAS, ROBBERS & JUGGERS - BabyTron

Nyah, nyah, hey

ShittyBoyz

Mm, hmm, hey (Don't you know you won the lotto?)

Hit it with some xyla', boy, this shit'll drop a hippo

Presidential tinted, you would think the pop a limo

Why you talkin' pape' and you ain't never shopped on Zillow?

Snuck a trey through TSA, I should've copped a pillow

I bet Don bring her out her shell like an armadillo

We some sea creatures, we'll turn some sharks to minnows

Hundred on me, lookin' for the drank, I need a case

I got a hundred for some Perc' 10s, shit, I need like eight

Nowadays it's Spectres, pandemic, it'd be i8's

Everybody got a time, I know I gotta see my day

Askin' all these questions, shit, I think doggy CIA

Walk him down, pull my mask up, I let him see my face

Poker face and tag too, five AK, let him see my hands

You damn near still ain't finished puberty, you still ain't seen nine bands?

Huh, why he tryna be Militia? He can't be my mans

If I don't pull the Mike Amiris down, this bitch gon' eat my pants

Sandstorm paintjob, the seats butter pecan

Bill Laimbeer, pop out, a dub in each hand

Lil' bro burnt out, got a gun in each hand

You better hope he don't blank, he get ugly off Xans

You would think that unc' on vaca', stompin' in the sand

You would think it's homecoming, get to drumming like a band

When it come to pape', ain't nothin' more important than the profit

I'd rather be the kidnapper than the hostage

I'd rather be the killer than who got popped

I'd rather be the robber than who got robbed

I'd rather be the swiper than who got scammed

I'd rather be the jugger than who got hammed

Knockin' on all my neighbors' doors, like, who got pans?

Twenty-five, I'm thinkin' Double R, last year I drived Ram

It ain't 'bout who the star, shit, who got the high hand?

Lil' Tron was rockin' like that since the rock pants

Hold on, where I'm at again?

Let me check my lo', you know I'm in here smacked again

Unfuckwitables by 'bow, you know we crackin' heads

Blood ain't mobile, but he got a brick, he finna trap for Benz

'Fore I ever touched a dub, I had to stack by tens

Bein' grown'll fuck you up, done cut off half my friends

Cutty got his wrist in the pot, he tryna snatch a— yeah

Your dead mans hittin' hard as fuck, I wish I had a bed

But your cousin, he a pack of reg'

You know the lifestyle we live, I'm somewhere at the edge

Any time I got a loaf, the guys got half the bread

Lil' neph went and caught a B, he had to scrap the dreads

I ain't slept in a week, shit, that's the meds

We was goin' light last year, we finna max the press

I can see through that smile, boy, your ass depressed

The first day of fall, you know I went and cashed a 'Tek

Glass cleaner, let me show you how to cash a check

Might as well take your jersey off, you just sat the bench

Real gremlin, bro don't care if they smacked with fent'

This day, seven years ago, I had some jacks to catch

Now I got a mil' to count, can somebody help me?

He gon' keep tryna wild out until somebody belt him

I need a line on AlPharma, can somebody tell me?

Twenty-five, the Hype Boys, nah, this ain't unky Pelle

Can somebody help me?

Can somebody belt him?

Ayy, ayy, hell naw, this ain't unky Pelle

ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia

Long live $cam, you know?

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

Ayy (Nyah)

I'd rather be the kidnapper than the hostage

I'd rather be the killer than who got popped

I'd rather be the robber than who got robbed

I'd rather be the swiper than who got scammed

I'd rather be the jugger than who got hammed

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