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iGlocks Video (MV)




Performed By: BabyTron
Featuring: Certified Trapper
Language: English
Length: 2:44
Written by: James Johnson, Daishun Graham




BabyTron - iGlocks Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Certified Trapper ]

(DamJonBoi)

Crunch time its finna get intense
He got one chance to show he clutch or he gon' sit the bench
When we poppin' out yo' bushes ain't no time to hit the fence

My cup purple, bitch your cup green
Got a burst on the chop I don't need no beam
I be on the mile, I be on the east
Head top his ass, 'cause he looked at me

If you want us in your city send that bookin' fee
My bitch lookin' heat, boy, you lookin' cheap
We'll get 'em cooked with grease
Get a pussy put to sleep
Out of town in the trenches lookin' for some' good to eat
Trapper got a book with him
All I know is push the P
My dread head spinnin' 'round like he Booker T
You might has well of shot blanks, you ain't hit a thing
I love how the Wock' taste you can see it in my face
Off a shroom or two, I see the colors gettin' vivid
I'ma call him froggy, sippin' green, I think he finna ribbit
Load too big to take the stuffer route, I can't even fit it in her
Put her in my palm and then I play her like a figit spinner

I'ma have to get the neck, I ain't hittin' bitches
Spankin' niggas on they ass, go and get my switches, pause
When I'm in that black bitch you can see it's tinted
Hell nah, you can't ride with the gang 'cause you might be snitchin'
Flaws all in your f*ckin' diamonds, none in my pendant
I'll Swiss Cheese bake a nigga, treat him like a biscuit
Beat the pussy up bad she thinkin' that I miss it
Really don't, I just popped a Perc 10 and hit it
Put that blow on your back, better stand on business
Shootin' 4x4s at his ass, bitch I bet I hit him
.762 head tap, bitch I bet I kill him
I ain't Lil Wayne, bitch I'm finna f*ckin' sing A Milli

Everybody shocked, I guess that they ain't see it in me
I pull up let that chopper crack a joke for all that bein' silly
Went from cards declinin', to stars alignin'
Pull up with a .50 cal and f*ck up that lil car's alignment

Paper gotta say six figures just for me to sign it
I just left the galleria, Tesla run on auto pilot
Ain't no f*ckin' single shot, I'ma auto fire it
Rolls Royce got hydraulics and auto risin'
Dirty ass stick, I think you need to lime it

Dirty Dan
Heard they want some beef, well shit I'm turnin' to the jerky man
Workers at the Apple store trippin' 'cause they heard we scam
Cuz rollin' off a v-cut hittin' the Perky dance
Thirty shows, one month, but shit I'm ready
She used to f*ckin' with some light weights, but shit I'm heavy
Heard them boys think they dope, well shit I'm fetti
Heard you got some shit to tell me, don't be shy now
Have a robber pull up, hit your top just for a side job
All that eyein' this way gon' turn him to a cyclops
I was blowin' loud since I was bumpin' off the iPod
All this juice I can't help it, shit, I might nod, I might nod

Off the shrooms in here thinkin' 'bout the cyclops
I'm in 2028 totin' iGlocks
Nigga talkin' 'bout he blood, get five shots
I'da chased that nigga down bout five blocks
Lookin' for this nigga, got five chops
T-bone a nigga in the drive-by
Somewhere low with your bitch in a high rise
Beat the kitty up, got nine lives
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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


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


English

(DamJonBoi)

Crunch time its finna get intense
He got one chance to show he clutch or he gon' sit the bench
When we poppin' out yo' bushes ain't no time to hit the fence

My cup purple, bitch your cup green
Got a burst on the chop I don't need no beam
I be on the mile, I be on the east
Head top his ass, 'cause he looked at me

If you want us in your city send that bookin' fee
My bitch lookin' heat, boy, you lookin' cheap
We'll get 'em cooked with grease
Get a pussy put to sleep
Out of town in the trenches lookin' for some' good to eat
Trapper got a book with him
All I know is push the P
My dread head spinnin' 'round like he Booker T
You might has well of shot blanks, you ain't hit a thing
I love how the Wock' taste you can see it in my face
Off a shroom or two, I see the colors gettin' vivid
I'ma call him froggy, sippin' green, I think he finna ribbit
Load too big to take the stuffer route, I can't even fit it in her
Put her in my palm and then I play her like a figit spinner

I'ma have to get the neck, I ain't hittin' bitches
Spankin' niggas on they ass, go and get my switches, pause
When I'm in that black bitch you can see it's tinted
Hell nah, you can't ride with the gang 'cause you might be snitchin'
Flaws all in your f*ckin' diamonds, none in my pendant
I'll Swiss Cheese bake a nigga, treat him like a biscuit
Beat the pussy up bad she thinkin' that I miss it
Really don't, I just popped a Perc 10 and hit it
Put that blow on your back, better stand on business
Shootin' 4x4s at his ass, bitch I bet I hit him
.762 head tap, bitch I bet I kill him
I ain't Lil Wayne, bitch I'm finna f*ckin' sing A Milli

Everybody shocked, I guess that they ain't see it in me
I pull up let that chopper crack a joke for all that bein' silly
Went from cards declinin', to stars alignin'
Pull up with a .50 cal and f*ck up that lil car's alignment

Paper gotta say six figures just for me to sign it
I just left the galleria, Tesla run on auto pilot
Ain't no f*ckin' single shot, I'ma auto fire it
Rolls Royce got hydraulics and auto risin'
Dirty ass stick, I think you need to lime it

Dirty Dan
Heard they want some beef, well shit I'm turnin' to the jerky man
Workers at the Apple store trippin' 'cause they heard we scam
Cuz rollin' off a v-cut hittin' the Perky dance
Thirty shows, one month, but shit I'm ready
She used to f*ckin' with some light weights, but shit I'm heavy
Heard them boys think they dope, well shit I'm fetti
Heard you got some shit to tell me, don't be shy now
Have a robber pull up, hit your top just for a side job
All that eyein' this way gon' turn him to a cyclops
I was blowin' loud since I was bumpin' off the iPod
All this juice I can't help it, shit, I might nod, I might nod

Off the shrooms in here thinkin' 'bout the cyclops
I'm in 2028 totin' iGlocks
Nigga talkin' 'bout he blood, get five shots
I'da chased that nigga down bout five blocks
Lookin' for this nigga, got five chops
T-bone a nigga in the drive-by
Somewhere low with your bitch in a high rise
Beat the kitty up, got nine lives
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: James Johnson, Daishun Graham
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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