BabyTron & Certified Trapper – Day W/ TSF (feat. Sauce Walka & Peso Peso)

[Verse 4: BabyTron]
Popping tens out the ‘script, we slapping pressed ones
Bitch asking me questions, she must think that this a press run
Thirty-two degrees around my neck, it got my chest numb
We don’t hit the range, we hop in traffic when we test guns

[Verse 5: Sauce Walka]
In the booth with the phone in my hand
I ain’t reading no raps, the ho just made thirty bands
Sippin’ syrup in the Maybach, makin’ plans
Got a ho up in Japan, finna fly her to Thailand
Might pour a four of syrup up in the can
Lean hit me so hard, I could barely even stand
Diamonds on my hand, Walka controller
Bitch see them lights flash, now she tryna sleep over

[Verse 6: Peso Peso]
Bitch tryna sleep over, but I got too many plays
I’m cross country with the hustling, pick up money different states
Look at Peso over there, pulled up in an i8
My nigga locked up getting money, shit, I guess crime pays
Ain’t doing too much of that talking, but I take off niggas’ fitteds
Me and bro Michael and Franklin how we clearing every mission
SRT hop out, but used to shoot out Honda Civic
I grab my chop, rock out, and get to stompin’ on the business

[Verse 7: Certified Trapper]
Man, if you up that bitch, better not hesitate
Slid on they block, thirty minutes, you see yellow tape
I see niggas broke and they poor, can’t find a better phrase
Finna pour a bitch car note up in this lemonade
Saucin’ on the bitch like, yes, I make her spend her pape’
Everything bust, VVS, ask Johnny Dang
Catch em in the alley meet the stretcher, I ain’t fuckin’ playing
Get the money counter, bitch I’m finna start another chain

[Verse 8: BabyTron]
Who is father nature? Hit the club, they call me brother rain
Who you think you foolin’ in your uncle watch and brother chain?
You would think I climbed my crib, I got it out the gutter mane
When it come to smoke we run towards it, you’d run away
It ain’t even eight, I’m puffin’ eighths and gave my cup an eight
Told the teller grab some floaties, bitch, I’m finna flood the bank
If we see em, buckle up ’cause I can’t let em run the plates
Used to want a hundred bucks, now what the fucks a hundred K?
Used to split a meal, now we eating off a hundred plates
They can’t figure out how they gon’ stop me hit a hundred— ayy
They can’t figure out how they gon’ stop me hit a hundred straight
Thinking we some green lights, I guarantee we’ll pump his brakes

[Outro: BabyTron]
ShittyBoyz, Dogshit Militia, Long Live $cams, you know?