Music Video

BabyTron - Billy Madison (Official Audio)
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
BabyTron
BabyTron
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
James Johnson IV
James Johnson IV
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
BabyTron
BabyTron
Mixing Engineer
Lotto
Lotto
Producer

Lyrics

Chrome Heart pants, but the hoodie Acronym Ayy (don't you know you won the Lotto?) Denim Tear jeans, but the hoodie Acronym It's the Dog $hit Militia, send them bullies after him Shit, my kit on ice age, guess I'm woolly mammothin' You was never really school, call you Billy Madison Had to look up in the mirror like, "Is this really happening?" Let me hear it's on the floor, I take my blicky, add a switch Show you something you ain't seen, you think you on an acid trip Better bring a lab coat, our lifestyle hazardous Lookin' like Fergie in her prime, this lil' ho, she glamorous Passionfruit soda, Wocky, watch me get passionate If it's smoke, we cancerous I can't be around you broke hoes, learned from my allergist Me and T-Bone on the 7, we just left Lumpkin lit If we catch him Halloween, I bet he get his pumpkin split Your ho in here sucking dick, I ain't even hump the bitch Boy, why you got a fanny pack? It ain't no gun in it My stick got a drum in it, hundred-fifty, thumbing it You a role player at the best, Robert Covington Double-R and double-R, watch me drop the Cullinan Shit, the leaf kayakin', where's the lighter? It's on the floor, time to hit the road, where's the drivers? Heard doggy got some loose screws, where's the pliers? Bragging 'bout your plug, whole time we're their suppliers Never ever been scared of the heat like where's the fire? Got a whole lotta lotta yeah like where's the buyers? If you hesitant, it's cool, we got samples, where's the triers? Heard I still don't scam, like fuck it, where's the Meijers? Oh, the opps? I'm tryna put a hole in one, where's my iron? You see everything where I'm at, bears and tigers From the D down to Chiraq with it We buy switches outta US and Iraq with it Got an MCM bag, but ain't got five racks in it That type of shit be killin' me Runnin' reds in the rental, I expect them billin' me Why the fuck is you jeffin' like a kid to me? Told her, "Leave, 'cause if it's hate, then you won't do that bid for me" Why the plug bring mids to me? He must not heard the song I hear the snakes hissin', time to go and search the lawn Cops thought they had me, whole time, the vert, it's gone All I had to do was snap a finger Your trap phone so dry, forgot it had a ringer Morning time gas station run, I'm blowed, smackin' zingers Shit, you Ace at the cleaners, I was him when he left I should've never listened from the moment when he jeffed Why he laughin' 'bout that L dog took when he next? I find that shit insane Good Richard Mille cost two-fifty, I'll just get it plain .308s, .308s could fuck around and flip a train Riding low in that old thang, I just chipped the paint As of lately, he been on BS, it got him slippin' rank The opps gettin' spanked With the Militia, think it's time we go and get the tank You just in the way tryna instigate Most of the time, I sip an eight just to hit the hay 'Cause it's stuck in my brain, I can't miss a play 'Cause it's stuck in my brain, I can't miss a day That fake watch he rockin', throw his whole wrist away The striker ain't even come with one, we ain't even have to switch the plates Why you peekin' at my dinner plate? Wasn't with me back then, you can't even get a bit of steak I see you moved on to your finished days I see you still still stuck on your finished ways She been suckin' it for hours, "Is you finished, bae?" Yeah, sometimes the love keep me goin', but it's the hate Huh, in Toronto with the Drac' Going a-a-ape shit, foolin' in my Bape In that Track-Trackhawk, swoopin' up some pape' Stomped him out in Travis Scotts and left the swooshes on his face Vroom, vroom-vroom-vroom, zoomin' to the bank They ask me who I do it for, I do it for the gang Cuddy trickshottin' like he Faze, shootin' in the rain A true genius, your bitch so super with that brain Free my unky, feds caught him up in an Uber with some 'caine Glock .40, I'm with a cougar for the day It's 10:51 in the Lab I can't tell you what it is, top secret in the stash Played the lobster with the crab Played the zaza with the dabs It was haha, it was laughs Race over, ain't it funny that them pussies finished last? You can't tell that I ain't finish class Should've popped a yerc before I seen her, I just finished fast Deadline on the floor, you better not come a minute past Let 'em shoot a shot finally, they won't even hit the glass ShittyBoyz, Dog $hit Militia, long live $cam
Writer(s): James Johnson, Lotto Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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