Correction Lyrics Alley-ooper by BabyTron

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Lyrics

Yeah, okay, I swear to God
They can't f**k with me
They can't f**k with me (Hokatiwi)
They can't f**k with me
Ha-ha, ayy
Ayy, Sh*ttyBoyz

Two straps on, crazy that I'm sliding in some Pradas
Looking like the Spetsnaz now, Stone Island balaclava
If we get our hands on some missiles, we gon' probably bomb him
Know yo pops mad he ain't spend a dollar on a condom
Turned his 'fro red, we just put the Dennis Rodman on him
Lil' eager b*t*h sucked the d**k then put on the bonnet
Head so heat in this b*t*h, got a body on it
Chop sing, see a opp and up the Sterl Gotti on him
You gon' break yo neck diving in, you ain't deep enough
Done fighting Wock', drunk a cup and it beat me up
F**k around and swing on a b*t*h if she don't swing the blunt
F**ked around and made ten before I ate my Reese's Puffs
Sleeve Nash, alley-oop, sh*t, I went two for two
When I wake up, first thing I say is usually rude
Could've telled the truth, told ma I was shooting hoops
I ain't score a bucket in a while, I was shooting moves
B*t*h caught me last week, guess what? I'm still cheating
I could be blind but an M, I think I'll see it
Death threats, I ain't lose sh*t, b*t*h, I'm still sleeping
Filled the money counter last night, this b*t*h still beeping
No cap, man, I know some real demons
Catch a body, back to the corner like Darrelle Revis
Riding through Troy, sixth sense, I can smell Neiman's
BabyTron losing? Lil' b*t*h, that's like Hell freezing
Lil' b*t*h, that's like you winning
'Miri jeans like a graveyard, got some blues in it
Run it up, he can't keep up, it ain't no juice in him
We'll leave his block looking like a f**king nuke hit it
Coach plays, keep the K, I should've went to Duke with it
Test tube'll test her next week, it's a new penny
Flashy, spin a b*t*h and f**k around and juke with it
Really finna have him sick, I hope he has some soup with him
Huh, okay, yeah, okay, okay
RIP Hamilton, hollow tips, they done broke his face
They don't trust you in the clutch, you gon' blow the game
B*t*h told me put the 'Wood down, I'm just blowing pain
Feel like Donny Bands, woke up and threw on my chain
Gang still shining, all the dirt they threw on our name
Be yourself, dude, why you tryna swerve on my lane?
Promise I'ma end up on shore, put me on a plane
Hopping out the hotbox, b*t*h think the Scat on fire
You cannot one up a genius, I'm a strategizer
Me and Dre in LA, eighty dollar appetizer
Better pay yo BM back 'fore she flash yo tires
Been earned my stripes 'fore I ever came Adidas fit
I ain't need sh*t to hit the b*t*h, you gon' need a fifth
B*t*h, I'm a Sh*ttyBoy, of course I'm a piece of sh*t
Deep down inside yo best friend want some piece of this
And her head a thumbs up, she could've got two
Tapping on my shoulder in the store? You could've got blew
Pulled up missing all yo jumpers, could've cop [?]
Sick as hell of the opps, man, I should've, achoo
And you loose, soft as hell, should've robbed you
Glock 23 slam dunk, it got LeBron moves
I'ma come Moose Knuckle, Moncler, and cop Goose
I ain't bust no f**king llama open but I got loot
Coupe don't got backseats but it got zoom
B*t*h know I'm a dog, pull up and I got groomed
We gon' pull up deeper than a b*t*h, I hope you got troops
One thing I love about myself is I am not you
I am not him, copy that? We are not shrimps
We'll pull up dropping shots off that'll rock gyms
Man, here go my b*t*h calling right now
Oh, you wanna know where I'm at? B*t*h, I'm locked in
Yeah
Ha-ha, yeah
They can't f**k with me, they never could but I guess I gotta tell y'all one more time
Yeah, okay
Yeah, Sh*ttyBoyz
Ayy, Sh*ttyBoyz, Sh*ttyBoyz, ayy

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