Correction Lyrics Its On by BabyTron

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Lyrics

Alright, bet, bet, bet, bet, bet, it's on, it's on
Ayy

Granny mad as hell, she talking 'bout I buy too many clothes
Stan, I think we need a U-Haul, bro, it's too many phones
It's only two bands here, I'm thinking it's too many hoes
FedEx flagged the drop house, we sent too many loads
Think I got a problem, I don't think, I just pick my hoes
Dre stuck with some ice on, you would think he froze
Won't give my b*t*h a shift, probably think I'm broke
Stan got a shot like Jell-O, well I think I'm Zoe

Huh, ayy
We on Melrose tripping, buying everything
Dre big tripping in the Scat, he in every lane
DOBs, SSNs, we got every name
Dirty in the rental, we got sticks, we got Mary Jane
Ayy, Sh*ttyBoyz up, told my boys, "We the sh*t, gang"
Pulled the pape out, left my jeans with some sh*t stains
B*t*h irritating, I'm so glad that her Lyft came
B*t*h, we play with Dracs like we running through the 6, gang

We'll put the hoes on him 'cause his brain in his d**k, ayy
B*t*h setting plays up, LJ came with the stick, ayy
You a stinky bum b*t*h with a pocket full of lint, lame
New i8, I shift drift then I switch lane
Yeah, I'm skinny but the Glock'll put the muscle on you
Slime walking, Triple S, nine hundred with the bubbles on it
Bro'll sauce you up for that and put the mustard on you
I'm finna punch some Air Max just so I can hover on 'em
Tron off the za, got him higher than a space station
B*t*h, I'm on the block with my 'rillas and my eight baby
Gang pulled up with the monkey nuts, had my apes blaze 'em
Doggy Superman, saving hoes and he pape saving
I'm with Tron, I'm with Dre, I'm with LJ
Swipe cards, scam grandmothers, I don't sell eights
Every n***a with me solid, they can't even spell "fake"
'Fore I hit him with it, ask the opps, "Can you spell 'Drac'?"

Adidas fanny pack, I pull it out and then I zap his a**
I can't even count how many f**king bags I dragged in Saks
Dunking on yo b*t*h, f**k around, unlock my slasher badge
Put the vallet in the [?] boy, you bet not crash the Scat

Ain't a bodybuilder, got a Glocky, I'll finish you
I ain't smoking za, drip exotic, check the tennis shoe
Bro'll rip it off yo neck if he like the kit on you
Sh*ttyBoyz, gang, gang, yeah, we'll sh*t on you

Way before Corona, gang and 'em, they had a mask collection
Two hundred dollar plate, steak and shrimp, no, I ain't anorexic
Sit the f**k down, lil' man, you will get slammed for stepping
I be dripping, ugh, boy, yo fit ain't even half impressive
F**ked around and sent his mans to Heaven
He thought he was tired till that new exotic Fanta met him
I just set the play for lil' bro, I just pa**ed, he catched it
Had to buy some thousand dollar shoes 'cause my a** be stepping
But I'ma do the Yeezys
I don't eat no coochie, told that b*t*h to make the coochie even
Jumped in the deep, now I splash, finna do the fee
She must think I'm Rick James or something, she get super freaky

In LA, my cholo knock yo mans' sombrero off
Me and Stan Lewis and Clark, this habanero talk
They done spiked the punch with the Wock', I can barely talk
My east side b*t*h be tripping, Glock got a pair of balls

Hit two freaky b*t*hes in LA, knocked down a pair of walls
Bro infatuated with the work, he tryna marry dawg
Chop'll knock the mug right off his face, he bet not stare at all
F**k Corona, bro ain't masking up 'cause he don't care at all

Yeah, yeah, lil' b*t*h, yeah, yeah
Boy, you broke as hell, you got fired, do like Craig, yeah
'010, I was beating a**, hopping off pegs, yeah
25K, five people, we in a jet, yeah
Big hammers on me, riding 'round with a sledge, yeah
B*t*h, my allegiance to the bag, finna pledge, yeah
I'll up spirit if you push me to the edge, yeah
We can walk him down 'cause the chop got a leg, yeah

Hopping in suburban, boy, I know you seen The Purge
Gang hopping on it, all they need is the word
I just left Saks like, damn, boy, I got some splurge
Pull my d**k out 'cause I know yo b*t*h got the urge

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