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BabyTron - RIP Hutch Lyrics



BabyTron - RIP Hutch Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Rico Nasty, Remble ]

I ain't takin' you home, shit
Shittyboyz, Dog $hit Militia
(Ayo, Mark A)

Off-white striped sweater, lookin' like I'm SpongeBob
Turnt now, f*cked around and cranked that one knob
Shout-out gang, some shoot, some scam, some rob
In Heron Preston sellin' food, it's a lunch line
Brodie off a bar, don't get blew when it's crunch time (f*ck)
Full swervin' off the Wockiana, I don't drunk drive (shit)
I'm tryna have a pistol fight, I'm finna up mine (damn)
Mirror tint up on the Cartis for the sunshine
Dog $hit Militia, gang know I'm on the frontline
Pourin' up in my Moutain Dew while I'm in here countin' blues
Livin' like Tom Cruise, see an opp, I'm hoppin' out the coupe
I just gotta let my chain dance, she gon' put that mouth to use
Penthouse MIA at the Fontainebleau
I was out workin', bro and them was out lurkin'
Was jumpin' out of Strikers, now I'm jumpin', crowd surfin'
Shit, I'm jumpin' out of Germans, this a i8 (skrrt)
Drip God, throw this shit on then I fly away
In here poppin' Perkys like I'm tryna fight a migraine
Cuddy in here servin' glass, he pull it out the ice tray
Got it off the hustle, off the muscle, I ain't buy fame
Feelin' like Sub-Zero, masked up in these ice chains
Rip Hutch, kit bust
Ridin' in a foreign sticked up, switched up
Been a while since I been down 'cause I been up
Four grams of the Runtz, only roll up big blunts
Look, I don't got a stutter problem when I talk wet
Would've thought I came from Niketown, I got all checks
Better call next, we got now, get the ball checked
7.62s, if they hit, they takin' all flesh, damn

Throwin' twos up in y'all face
Deuce-deuce fallin' in my pants, you would assume I had a small waist
Short temper even when a nickel had a long day
Loose screw, sound like penny droppin' in my bald fade
We keep it crackin' (crackin')
He peep the scene then he start smackin' (smackin')
Let's get it jumpin' (jumpin')
If Crash pulls up, we won't say nothin'
Nada, zero, I'm not bluffin'
Two time hero, grandkids munchkins
Opps be sweet though, Starbursts, Gushers
Okay, see how they get thundered
Pesos, euros, I clear baggage
Chicken, chili, Gouda, cabbage
She got keester, rump, wagon
Jeepers Creepers, face was nasty
Said she look like Janet Jackson
OMG, this sitch was cappin'
I wouldn't lie though, I might still smash her
She kinda fly so I just land her (Rico)

You ain't got no motion, you ain't got no money, nigga
I just can't sit still, I'm a f*ckin' money getter (yeah)
I speak facts, bitches copy, no printer (what?)
Keep this shit ballin', never let the beat settle
Mugler on my ass (yeah)
Pants too tight, I can't even fit the racks (yeah)
Only time I need a nigga when I need help with the bags
30K in one store cray with the fashion (what?)
Pockets big and fat like it's new YZY GAP fit (uh-huh)
Pink Balenciaga Croc boots like Patrick (what?)
Niggas old news, had to leave 'em in the past tense (huh?)
"Rico, how you feelin'?" Ho, I'm feelin' like that bitch
I feel so cute when he spend a bag on me
I feel so cute, took yo' nigga and his homie
I been servin' looks, I don't ever need tips
If you don't like me, you can suck two dicks
I feel so cute when he spend a bag on me
I feel so cute, took yo' nigga and his homie
I been servin' looks, all hits, I don't miss
If you don't like me, you can suck on this

This, suck on this
This for my bad bitches (bitch, Rico)
And bitch niggas only (yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh)
This for my money getters and big steppers
My pretty strippers only
Bitch
Rico, Rico
Yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

I ain't takin' you home, shit
Shittyboyz, Dog $hit Militia
(Ayo, Mark A)

Off-white striped sweater, lookin' like I'm SpongeBob
Turnt now, f*cked around and cranked that one knob
Shout-out gang, some shoot, some scam, some rob
In Heron Preston sellin' food, it's a lunch line
Brodie off a bar, don't get blew when it's crunch time (f*ck)
Full swervin' off the Wockiana, I don't drunk drive (shit)
I'm tryna have a pistol fight, I'm finna up mine (damn)
Mirror tint up on the Cartis for the sunshine
Dog $hit Militia, gang know I'm on the frontline
Pourin' up in my Moutain Dew while I'm in here countin' blues
Livin' like Tom Cruise, see an opp, I'm hoppin' out the coupe
I just gotta let my chain dance, she gon' put that mouth to use
Penthouse MIA at the Fontainebleau
I was out workin', bro and them was out lurkin'
Was jumpin' out of Strikers, now I'm jumpin', crowd surfin'
Shit, I'm jumpin' out of Germans, this a i8 (skrrt)
Drip God, throw this shit on then I fly away
In here poppin' Perkys like I'm tryna fight a migraine
Cuddy in here servin' glass, he pull it out the ice tray
Got it off the hustle, off the muscle, I ain't buy fame
Feelin' like Sub-Zero, masked up in these ice chains
Rip Hutch, kit bust
Ridin' in a foreign sticked up, switched up
Been a while since I been down 'cause I been up
Four grams of the Runtz, only roll up big blunts
Look, I don't got a stutter problem when I talk wet
Would've thought I came from Niketown, I got all checks
Better call next, we got now, get the ball checked
7.62s, if they hit, they takin' all flesh, damn

Throwin' twos up in y'all face
Deuce-deuce fallin' in my pants, you would assume I had a small waist
Short temper even when a nickel had a long day
Loose screw, sound like penny droppin' in my bald fade
We keep it crackin' (crackin')
He peep the scene then he start smackin' (smackin')
Let's get it jumpin' (jumpin')
If Crash pulls up, we won't say nothin'
Nada, zero, I'm not bluffin'
Two time hero, grandkids munchkins
Opps be sweet though, Starbursts, Gushers
Okay, see how they get thundered
Pesos, euros, I clear baggage
Chicken, chili, Gouda, cabbage
She got keester, rump, wagon
Jeepers Creepers, face was nasty
Said she look like Janet Jackson
OMG, this sitch was cappin'
I wouldn't lie though, I might still smash her
She kinda fly so I just land her (Rico)

You ain't got no motion, you ain't got no money, nigga
I just can't sit still, I'm a f*ckin' money getter (yeah)
I speak facts, bitches copy, no printer (what?)
Keep this shit ballin', never let the beat settle
Mugler on my ass (yeah)
Pants too tight, I can't even fit the racks (yeah)
Only time I need a nigga when I need help with the bags
30K in one store cray with the fashion (what?)
Pockets big and fat like it's new YZY GAP fit (uh-huh)
Pink Balenciaga Croc boots like Patrick (what?)
Niggas old news, had to leave 'em in the past tense (huh?)
"Rico, how you feelin'?" Ho, I'm feelin' like that bitch
I feel so cute when he spend a bag on me
I feel so cute, took yo' nigga and his homie
I been servin' looks, I don't ever need tips
If you don't like me, you can suck two dicks
I feel so cute when he spend a bag on me
I feel so cute, took yo' nigga and his homie
I been servin' looks, all hits, I don't miss
If you don't like me, you can suck on this

This, suck on this
This for my bad bitches (bitch, Rico)
And bitch niggas only (yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh)
This for my money getters and big steppers
My pretty strippers only
Bitch
Rico, Rico
Yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: James Johnson, Eunique Remble, Maria Cecilia Simone Kelly
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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BabyTron - RIP Hutch Video
(Show video at the top of the page)


Performed By: BabyTron
Featuring: Rico Nasty, Remble
Language: English
Length: 3:36
Written by: James Johnson, Eunique Remble, Maria Cecilia Simone Kelly

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