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Crocs & Wock’
by
BabyTron
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Lyrics
Hundred blue and all ba— (Hey) Hundred ball and all blues on me (Hmm) Hundred off, hehe, what up, Helly? Yeah B*t*h, alright, back to it, huh Hundred ball in all— (Ahem) Hundred ball in— Huh, yeah (Helluva made this beat, baby) Hundred ball in all blues on me, b*t*h think I'm Crip In the deep, great white, don't think I'm shrimp G-O-A-T, sh*t, b*t*h, I think I'm him Gotta be ten plus with me to think I'm kin We are not cousins, we are not nothing B*t*h, I'm tryna f**k, turn around, we are not hugging If I hear it's up, guarantee I got the Glock jumping 'Miris or the Ksubis or the PURPLE's, I don't rock Hudson's Threw the beam on the Glock 'cause it comеs in handy Shot his legs off, he took the bag and triеd to Running Man me Hundred dollar plates every meal, b*t*h, my stomach fancy I was young as hell loving pape', you was in love with candy I was young as hell masked up, before Halloween I was young as hell on that one sh*t, counting cheese I was young as hell on that court, hoped they scouted me Now, I'm balling on whoever once doubted me Told the b*t*h get the f**k on if she ain't throwing neck Zaza, Turtle Pie, this ain't motor breath Ten toes, b*t*h, I'm with the Reaper, all he know is step Backwood full of Runtz, swear I ain't joking, neph' Rapstar, walk around with a frozen neck Reach for a chain, hitman lay your soul to rest Skinny motherf**ker, buffs on, all I know is flex Could've been a broke motherf**ker, but I chose a check Could've been poor, but I'm rich now Turnt the city up, the first video on Richtown HipHop Lab, big threats, b*t*h, I'm lit now Sh*ttyBoyz, Dog Sh*t Militia, don't get blicked down Red beam on old dog nose, he a big clown Unky moving through the 'bows, this his fifth pound Thousand dollar sneaks, I'd take your a** to Drip Town Hitman Mr. Headshot, you better get down You better try and run and flee, you better tuck and duck Big Bad Wolf, the Backwood finna huff and puff Working magic with the Visas, Hufflepuff In a spaceship, high as hell, finna hover up Three of red, turn my Mountain Dew into martian juice Push the lil' b***on, finna start the coupe This sh*t chess, so you better play your smartest move Put that lil' gun down, you ain't got the heart to shoot If we down two, I got a three in me B*t*h talk loose, I'm on her head like a beady bead Y3 joggy, Kanye's, I got Adida feet In the scam house, same block, you can see a fiend Cous' in the trap, f**k around with some P's of beans Lil' lightskin, pretty b*t*h like Alicia Keys Ever get some real cheese? Gotta feed your team Wear Crocs on some millionaires, I'm just being me Hehe, ayy, Sh*ttyBoyz What up, Helly? Hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, Sh*ttyBoyz
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