BabyTron, Certified Trapper & Soulja Boy – Ice Cream Lyrics

BabyTron, Certified Trapper & Soulja Boy – Ice Cream ( Lyrics Lyrics) (feat. YN Jay & R Letra BabyTron SB BabyTron, Certified Trapper & Soulja
Intro: BabyTron

(Damjonboi)
(Prince, this a hit)
What’s up, nigga? You tryna smoke?
Back the fuck 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 fuckin’ custo’, shorty, and he mine
Just cover your nose and shut the fuck up
Hey

Verse 1: BabyTron

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”

Verse 2: Certified Trapper & BabyTron

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 fuck just did your drank? Lil’ brodie got some light green (Lame)

Verse 3: BabyTron

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

Verse 4: Certified Trapper

New grip on the Drac’, this bitch naïve (Brrt)
I been on tour all week, this like flight three (Yoom)
If you fuck with Certified Trapper, you get flights free
Soulja-fied Trapper, yeah, they comin’ with some new marines

Verse 5: BabyTron

Sometimes the L’s come before the dubs settle
Blowin’ zottie, 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

Verse 6: Certified Trapper, BabyTron, & Soulja Boy

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)

Verse 7: Soulja Boy

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’

Verse 8: YN Jay & Soulja Boy

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
Somebody spreadin’ cheese on the Doritos, it’s a nacho day
Clap, clap, clap, clap, let me see that ass jump
Stinkin’-ass bitch, got on the same panties from last month
She ain’t even get the BBL, she got the ass pumps
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, dog (Huh?)
What he said, dog? (Gang)

Verse 9: RiFF RAFF

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

Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

Lyrics Soulja Boy (Big Draco) – The Trap

Lyrics Soulja Boy (Big Draco) – The Trap

Soulja Boy (Big Draco) – The Trap (Official Music Video) Lyrics
Check out the lyrics the full song with official video to listen to, Learn to sing this song. available for all countries Song lyrics not found: Submit the lyrics of this song.In the form! letras2.com
[formidable id=4]
Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

Soulja Boy – Goin Down (Young Joc)

Soulja Boy – Goin Down (Young Joc) Lyrics
Goin Down (Young Joc) Lyrics, Letra:

Intro
Uh
Ayo,
? you go crazy
Draco
(Nigga, you know what the fuck goin’ on, nigga, niggas play wit’ nigga, you nigga)
Ayo,
?
Rrr, uh

Chorus
Nigga, nigga, serve it by the pound
I’m not Yung Joc, but it’s goin’ down
Alotta sticks in this bitch, do not make a sound
Move it by the ton, move it by the pound
Move it by the hundon, move it by the thou’
Niggas opps in this bitch, shootin’ in the crowd
Rrr, rrr, do not make a sound
I’m not Yung Joc, but it’s goin’ down

Verse
Whip it in yo’ face, like it’s hibachi
Big chopsticks that hold a hunnid, do karate
Nigga, cop the Hellcat, uh, cop the Maserati, uh (Yeah)
Cop the Lambo’, yeah, cop the new Ferrari, yeah
Cop the new Mercedes, these bitches goin’ crazy
Drop-top, do the dash, 12 can’t catch me (Yeah)
Drop-top, a hunnid bags, niggas tryna arrest me
The block ring and
? ring are worth a brand new Lexus (Gang)
Grills, Johnny Dang, wrist, Peter Marco
Hunnid K off of chasin’ Ms at Wells Fargo
They know me by my face, I’ll bail out tomorrow
We got rich off Krispy Kremes and pounds of gelato, uh
We got rich off pullin’ that stick like I hit the lotto, uh
Ridin’ wit’ a bad bitch, twerkin’ like Mulatto, uh
Hellcat, do the dash like it’s Grand Theft Auto (Uh)
(Hellcat, do the dash like it’s Grand Theft Auto)
Chorus
Nigga, nigga, serve it by the pound
I’m not Yung Joc, but it’s goin’ down
Alotta sticks in this bitch, do not make a sound
Move it by the ton, move it by the pound
Move it by the hundon, move it by the thou’
Niggas opps in this bitch, shootin’ in the crowd
Rrr, rrr, do not make a sound
I’m not Yung Joc, but it’s goin’ down