BabyTron – AYEE! Lyrics

Album on MegaTron 2

[Chorus]
(Whew)
Hey, playin’ with my pop, you think I’m makin’ Kool-Aid (Ayy)
Ayy, all he do is take L’s, I’ma call him Mr. Cool J (Hey)
Hey, designer swim trunks on stage, you would’ve thought it was a pool day (Hey, hey)
Hey, I been drinkin’ juice straight, fucked around and caught a toothache (Hey, hey)
Hey, if that bag get put on you, it’s your job to meet that due date (Hey, Hey)
Ayy, hoodie reads “Hellstar,” but the shoelaces say “Shoelace” (Ayy, ayy)
Ayy, sayin’ that the site dead, think you need to find a new base (Hey, hey)
Hey, I ain’t worried ’bout the hate, every day, I wake up, do great

[Verse]
Out in traffic, belt equipped, you know that’s just the law
Would’ve thought I’m granny, free as hell is what a whoopin’ cost
Cuddy took a loss cookin’ raw, but he shook it off
Boy, you know it cost to be the boss, you probably shouldn’t talk, this a money convo
Pop out with a drum, eighty incendiaries, twenty hollows
Doggy bone my son, he seen me do it, I bet buddy follow
I ain’t worried if the route hot, ’cause this punch Diablo, tuh
You ain’t did nothin’ with ’em, keep your wise words
Cat badge all up on the side, it make wide turns
Boy, I had a dub before I started growin’ sideburns
Shippin’ big packs, Titanic, my kit an iceberg
For most people, them be fightin’ words, for me, they dyin’ words
Heard they said I still ain’t got it, shit, it ain’t no “I” in hurt
Had a dollar and a dream, now I’m signin’ shirts
Shit, you better have the cheese on you tryna buy a verse
The man, the myth, the legend
Unky said he need some grams, the mix, a blender
Need to open up the geek kit, fix my temper
What the fuck’s a wintertime grind? Been on it since September
I might pop out with three hundred, R.I.P. Fredo Santana
Block hot as hell, fast whips, Dracos, bandanas
Porsche Panamera, oldheads had they era
Went around the world and seen it, now I’m back to McNamara
Off-White tee with graffiti, it look vandalized
Metal on me, blowin’ zotty, lookin’ like a samurai
Gold 41 with chocolate face, Ferrero Rocher
Shit, I’m runnin’ to the top, you probably stare at the stairs
Let the fifty-rounder off, could probably scare off a bear
Think she that, only a seven when she wearin’ some hair
Shoot the 40, watch it bounce around like Harrison Barnes
Think it’s foreign off the look, this an American car
Ain’t got love for you boys, ain’t no sparrin’ with y’all
He ain’t never hit a shot, would throw a dart in the wall
Huh, I cannot really relate, we be bull’s-eyein’
Know that they gon’ charge him as a minor, young bull silent
Bullets look like egg rolls, he lucky he had duck sauce
You can learn a thousand lessons off of one loss
(Hey, SBDSM, long live $cam, ayy)

[Chorus]
Hey, playin’ with my pop, you think I’m makin’ Kool-Aid (Hey)
(Hey, all he do is take L’s, I’ma call him Mr. Cool J) (Hey)
Hey, designer swim trunks on stage, you would’ve thought it was a pool day (Hey, hey)
(Hey, I been drinkin’ juice straight, fucked around and caught a toothache) (Hey, hey)
Hey, if that bag get put on you, it’s your job to meet that due date (Hey, Hey)
(Ayy, hoodie reads “Hellstar,” but the shoelaces say “Shoelace”) (Ayy, ayy)
Ayy, sayin’ that the site dead, think you need to find a new base (Hey, hey)
(Hey, I ain’t worried ’bout the hate, every day, I wake up, do great)

[Outro]
(Every day, I wake up, do great regardless what they say, you know?)