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BabyTron - Ice Cream Lyrics



BabyTron - Ice Cream Lyrics
Official





(Damjonboi)
(Prince, this a hit)
What's up, nigga? You tryna smoke?
Back the f*ck up, man
You throwin' breath all around this bitch, foggin' up my buffs
Man, why you talkin' to the custo' like that, man? (Yeah)
'Cause he a f*ckin' custo', shorty, and he mine
Just cover your nose and shut the f*ck up
Hey

Cuddy rockin' Levi's, but they the Denim Tears
You can't grow these 'bows in Michigan, you gotta send 'em here
Off the capital, should I play Sinclair or Saint Michael?
Think he lyin' 'bout his life 'cause he don't never say, "Bible"

On your block, a scavenger, I'm tryna sightsee
With the Glock, I'm accurate, I'll put your ass up on a white tee
I try to do the average, I dropped a four up in an iced tea
Who the f*ck just did your drank? Lil' brodie got some light green (lame)

Out the way, I bet I'd hit a deer without these high beams
Life a movie, bro'll pulled up shootin' up the fight scene
Cuddy breaking glass like he Shaq, servin' ice cream
You won't even see the postseason, y'all the ninth seat

New grip on the Drac', this bitch naïve (brrt)
I been on tour all week, this like flight three (yoom)
If you f*ck with Certified Trapper, you get flights free
Soulja-fied Trapper, yeah, they comin' with some new marines

Sometimes the L's come before the dubs settle
Blowin' zotty, eyes red like I popped a blood vessel
Tap a hat and up a rank 'cause you ain't got enough level
First place when we racin', all I know is stump pedal

Top floor lookin' at the sky, I deserve this shit
If that ho don't make the right move, I'ma curve that bitch
(I'ma leave her in the past)
Plug in Argentina (ooh)
Grenades in the Lab, we should hit Karina (boom, Draco)
(Grenades in the Lab, we should hit Karina)

Big Backwood, nigga, I'm smokin' on Sherblato (gang)
Ridin' in a Hellcat, nigga, Grand Theft Auto (yeah)
Smokin' on Backwoods, higher than Invader Zim (gang)
Make the wrong move, then the chopper gon' spray at them (brr)
Hit the location, where he at? I'm chasin' him (gang)
We ain't askin' no questions, nigga, you know we takin' shit (takin' shit)
Hold on, big chopstick, nigga, this shit hold a hundred (gang)
Big zaza blunt, nigga stay blunted (Draco)
Duffel bag a hundred K, nigga, all hundreds (Soulja)
Big Draco, nigga, I came up from nothin'

Ridin' with a baby AK, this a micro Drac'
Nigga got some bullshit jewelry, throw your ice away
Young nigga died for no reason, threw his life away (nah)
Bitch want Coochie Man yesterday, but she want Mike today
Bitch say she got her driver license, where your license plate? (Where?)
You would think the Wock' hit the ground how they dropped the case (nah)
Why you keep flashin' dog money? That is not your pay (stop it)
Somebody spreadin' cheese on the Doritos, it's a nacho day
Clap, clap, clap, clap, let me see that ass jump (let me see somethin')
Stinkin'-ass bitch, got on the same panties from last month (man, damn)
She ain't even get the BBL, she got the ass pumps (she got the, what?)
They used to show me love, but now they hate I got my cash up
Forty on me, bag up
Halloween, masked up (okay)
Ride it out, draft up
Split fifty with my last buck
Drew Brees, she got passed up
Stick up, put the cash up (baow)
Now he dead, dawg (Huh?)
What he said, dawg? (Gang)

Uh, husky is my pedigree
If you not my pedigree, we can't exchange my energy
If you not what's next for me
If it's not a check for me, flex for free
Everything is PPV, it's pay-per-view
Car got satellite, Mercedes coupe is pastel baby blue
Screens hang like the fangs on 'em, mango saber tooth
I ain't graduated, but my house is guard-gated
Money stretch like Tom Brady
Cadillac was escalated
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Damjonboi)
(Prince, this a hit)
What's up, nigga? You tryna smoke?
Back the f*ck up, man
You throwin' breath all around this bitch, foggin' up my buffs
Man, why you talkin' to the custo' like that, man? (Yeah)
'Cause he a f*ckin' custo', shorty, and he mine
Just cover your nose and shut the f*ck up
Hey

Cuddy rockin' Levi's, but they the Denim Tears
You can't grow these 'bows in Michigan, you gotta send 'em here
Off the capital, should I play Sinclair or Saint Michael?
Think he lyin' 'bout his life 'cause he don't never say, "Bible"

On your block, a scavenger, I'm tryna sightsee
With the Glock, I'm accurate, I'll put your ass up on a white tee
I try to do the average, I dropped a four up in an iced tea
Who the f*ck just did your drank? Lil' brodie got some light green (lame)

Out the way, I bet I'd hit a deer without these high beams
Life a movie, bro'll pulled up shootin' up the fight scene
Cuddy breaking glass like he Shaq, servin' ice cream
You won't even see the postseason, y'all the ninth seat

New grip on the Drac', this bitch naïve (brrt)
I been on tour all week, this like flight three (yoom)
If you f*ck with Certified Trapper, you get flights free
Soulja-fied Trapper, yeah, they comin' with some new marines

Sometimes the L's come before the dubs settle
Blowin' zotty, eyes red like I popped a blood vessel
Tap a hat and up a rank 'cause you ain't got enough level
First place when we racin', all I know is stump pedal

Top floor lookin' at the sky, I deserve this shit
If that ho don't make the right move, I'ma curve that bitch
(I'ma leave her in the past)
Plug in Argentina (ooh)
Grenades in the Lab, we should hit Karina (boom, Draco)
(Grenades in the Lab, we should hit Karina)

Big Backwood, nigga, I'm smokin' on Sherblato (gang)
Ridin' in a Hellcat, nigga, Grand Theft Auto (yeah)
Smokin' on Backwoods, higher than Invader Zim (gang)
Make the wrong move, then the chopper gon' spray at them (brr)
Hit the location, where he at? I'm chasin' him (gang)
We ain't askin' no questions, nigga, you know we takin' shit (takin' shit)
Hold on, big chopstick, nigga, this shit hold a hundred (gang)
Big zaza blunt, nigga stay blunted (Draco)
Duffel bag a hundred K, nigga, all hundreds (Soulja)
Big Draco, nigga, I came up from nothin'

Ridin' with a baby AK, this a micro Drac'
Nigga got some bullshit jewelry, throw your ice away
Young nigga died for no reason, threw his life away (nah)
Bitch want Coochie Man yesterday, but she want Mike today
Bitch say she got her driver license, where your license plate? (Where?)
You would think the Wock' hit the ground how they dropped the case (nah)
Why you keep flashin' dog money? That is not your pay (stop it)
Somebody spreadin' cheese on the Doritos, it's a nacho day
Clap, clap, clap, clap, let me see that ass jump (let me see somethin')
Stinkin'-ass bitch, got on the same panties from last month (man, damn)
She ain't even get the BBL, she got the ass pumps (she got the, what?)
They used to show me love, but now they hate I got my cash up
Forty on me, bag up
Halloween, masked up (okay)
Ride it out, draft up
Split fifty with my last buck
Drew Brees, she got passed up
Stick up, put the cash up (baow)
Now he dead, dawg (Huh?)
What he said, dawg? (Gang)

Uh, husky is my pedigree
If you not my pedigree, we can't exchange my energy
If you not what's next for me
If it's not a check for me, flex for free
Everything is PPV, it's pay-per-view
Car got satellite, Mercedes coupe is pastel baby blue
Screens hang like the fangs on 'em, mango saber tooth
I ain't graduated, but my house is guard-gated
Money stretch like Tom Brady
Cadillac was escalated
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: James Edward Johnson II, Daishun Graham, DeAndre Cortez Way, Jaylein Auther-Henry Cantrell, Horst Christian Simco
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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