BabyTron - Jugg And Punch lyrics

[Intro] It's Lando, yo b*tch know, don't let yo b*tch go, ni**a b*tch [Verse] Picking steak out my teeth, I'm at STK I'ma go fed if I really talk them SBAs Team full of ballers, every day them boys text me plays Steer with my right out the window, it's a lefty day I'll turn the hard in, unky cook it up sh*ttyBoyz, it's a big bag, you think 'bout booking us How is you the plug? Never took the cord and hooked it up Pretty lil' classy b*tch, I won't even look at s*uts Net worth ain't accurate, won't even look it up He in the 'Cat, nine lives, ten shots shook him up MC Scammer, had some BINs that they couldn't touch Told him I'll do this sh*t, I'm thinking like, I wouldn't what? Really all I knew before the rap was jugg and punch Me and Stan OT, MacBook full of dumps Windmill and back for thе times when I couldn't dunk On the phonе like, I gotta go, I'm finna pull in Hutch Triangle, square, circle, L1, cheat coding Touchdown, Marshawn Lynch, b*tch, I'm beast moding Stop playing, b*tch, I'm like Curry when the three open Think the reason that I'm working magic 'cause I drink potion sh*ttyBoyz, sh*t talking, this is what I do Real playmaker, same gang, get a couple oops Walk you to the water, what you do? That sh*t up to you Blue, pink, green, rainbow, what I'm thumbing through Hot as hell out, droptop, I ain't coming roof Oldhead talking out his neck, get yo uncle blew Club deep as hell, Track .2s, I might stumble through Talk sh*t and we'll back it up, we the Plunger Crew Slide vet, I'll teach you magic like I'm Dumbledore "BabyTron__" on the 'Gram, don't forget the underscores Backwoods only, what the fu*k you roll a funnel for? If I throw a hundred in the club, could throw a hundred more Hmm, don't make me go and do it You twenty-three with gray hairs? You must be going through it Why you bragging 'bout lil' sh*t when you 'posed to do it? Would've thought it's aimbots around, we be so focused shooting 350, 700, sh*t, I'm just Yeezy stepping Fireman, every line a punch, I'm just Weezy F-ing Chess player, twenty moves ahead, I'ma keep 'em guessing Backdoored yo mans, oh, b*tch, you like sneaky seconds Huh, foreign b*tch with the fleaky nails I ain't leaving home till that one truck bring me mail Forty deep, twenty dirty sticks, half CPLs On my way to the top, won't let them see me fail I could, I could, I could, damn, the Runtz got me stuttering fu*k tryna make it rain, I'ma have it thundering Check run, made a easy fifty out of Huntington Palm Angels cheetah sweat suit, what I'm running in [Outro] Huh, ayy, sh*ttyBoyz