D$M Cypher 2 Songtext
von BabyTron
D$M Cypher 2 Songtext
(Damjonboi)
Plug said it′s footballs around
I told him throw a spiral
Scratched off on twelve
They thought that I was finna show the title
Stomp him out and post the vid
He sick he going viral
We gon' slide OT
They meet us on arrival
All my opps broke as fuck
I don′t got no rivals
Boy yo sauce running out
You need a scam revival
Marcelo Burlon tee on
Bitch I'm feeling tribal
Hit the road every day
Ain't even have no license
Ain′t no calling my jugg phone
Bitch you gotta Skype me
Got a site that piece so fast
That bitch hit like lightning
(Boy the way that I punch shit)
(You would think I′m fighting)
'018 no ATT I go and hit Verizon
′Bows coming straight through FedEx
We finna overnight 'em
Don′t talk about my ex
That bitch dead
Man these hoes is triflin'
In the cockpit taking different drugs
Like I know the pilot
(If I catch a opp walking out the crib)
(I′ma have to snipe him)
Put a opp nigga on a T-shirt
We finna advertise him
7.62s coming out the Drac'
Look like Oscar Mayers
Doing donuts in the Redeye
I done popped the tires
(Thirty dot on me goin' through at Walmart)
(I don′t shop at Meijer′s)
It ain't starting with no five
I won′t even try it
And my six so exotic
Niggas couln't find it
Stacked as hell
Was bunrt up in my benny′s
Damn near couldn't bite it
Mom′s mad
Fucked around and gave her phone a virus
And how yo bitch give me head
I guess she open-minded
Got a chop
Not a Drac'
Yes this bitch Osiris
Shit be going through yo ears
So its nevermind it
Say you balling
Check his stats
What's his plus-minus
Punch licks before the whip
You was bus riding
Virgil did the shirt
But it′s Purple on my pants
Got a glizzy with a switch
Extra clip for his mans
You ain′t SBDSM if you ain't hit the store and jam
Brodie miss-
Finna pop him on a cam
Don′t be hopping in this ride
If you ain't really down to blam
Choppa got a grip
With a hunnid round under it
I can′t even give yo ass no bag 'cause you gon′ fumble it
You was playing with that WAP
Now what's up with it?
Please don't think that we don′t got no guns
′Cause we don't post that shit
Try me if you want and that′s the day you meet the Lord
Got that metal on me like a knight but not a sword
I would hate me too
I'm wearing shit you can′t afford
We been fucking for some hours
Damn I'm getting bored
You can′t tax me
Bitch I'm plugged in like a cord
We gon' flip that bitch
You bet not slide that Ford
Weed sticky
Bitch I′m off a three-five of S′mores
Camping in the bushes
Finna put him in a morgue
This is not tomato juice
Acky what I pour
Shit
I was searching for the red
Think I need a deuce
It's a light-ass day
Only hit for two
Better get your boo
Say she like it how I smell
Za and Jimmy Choo
Conversating with the Wock′ like
I'm feeling you
We just need your SSN
We can push it through
I′m moving different off the whippits and the gummy shrooms
Like how you pull five racks and they ain't even new?
Face a eighth say why not she think 42
Ron shooting basketballs
He don′t even hoop
(Fat nigga but the jeans skinny)
Helmut Langs on my body
I done paid like three-fifty
Big B's like runners but these not no 350s
How you got no cheese but out here tryna beef with me
How you got no cheese but out here tryna eat with me
I done poured a whole hart now I got a three with me
Left the ShittyBoyz show
Now I got a freak with me
And got her off the onion pack
Lil' bitch in here geeked with me
Choppa gay as hell
It got some nuts but it twerk so crazy
Running off, this bitch′ll pat yo back
Be done burped yo baby
Purple jeans on my ass, I don′t perp' though baby
Fire blew him like the wind
Put him in the Earth so crazy
Buffs hanging off my shirt
Collar got my tee drenched
Every time I open up my closet I get seasick
For my dough we done baked his ass like a deep dish
We′ll pull up waving sticks around on some Wii shit
Za smoke
Mirror tints
I can't see shit
LA, Miami, New York
I took three trips
.223s hitting everybody like a freak bitch
On a steak diet
You would probably think I lean sip
Riding ′round with a mini Drac' and a mean bitch
Fifty on me
Pull up on her in a Hellcat
She put that kitty on me
Why you go and grab a thirty-six
You got a mini Rollie
That′s a bitch watch
Looking like a bitch with yo bitch doing TikToks
Pints, 'bows, and pills
Bitch, I'm juggling
Cuddy in that Scat with the bee
Hear it bumbling
VIP booth throwing pape′
You hear it thundering
Off filet mignon
I′m sick I hear yo stomach rumbling
Sipping Quagmire
I might get fat like Peter Griffin
Talking 'bout he got the hoes but got a eater with him
Me and you got the same shoes but I look cleaner in ′em
(Like these exact same shoes)
Celine off the Chanel
I'm in this bitch triple C-ing
Me, Ju, and Scrumble caught a opp
We finna triple team him
Pause
New condo, I just spent a twenty on a Kaws
Catch him in that deep
Do him like I′m Jaws
ShittyBoyz
Dog Shit MIlitia
You know what the fuck going on
Plug said it′s footballs around
I told him throw a spiral
Scratched off on twelve
They thought that I was finna show the title
Stomp him out and post the vid
He sick he going viral
We gon' slide OT
They meet us on arrival
All my opps broke as fuck
I don′t got no rivals
Boy yo sauce running out
You need a scam revival
Marcelo Burlon tee on
Bitch I'm feeling tribal
Hit the road every day
Ain't even have no license
Ain′t no calling my jugg phone
Bitch you gotta Skype me
Got a site that piece so fast
That bitch hit like lightning
(Boy the way that I punch shit)
(You would think I′m fighting)
'018 no ATT I go and hit Verizon
′Bows coming straight through FedEx
We finna overnight 'em
Don′t talk about my ex
That bitch dead
Man these hoes is triflin'
In the cockpit taking different drugs
Like I know the pilot
(If I catch a opp walking out the crib)
(I′ma have to snipe him)
Put a opp nigga on a T-shirt
We finna advertise him
7.62s coming out the Drac'
Look like Oscar Mayers
Doing donuts in the Redeye
I done popped the tires
(Thirty dot on me goin' through at Walmart)
(I don′t shop at Meijer′s)
It ain't starting with no five
I won′t even try it
And my six so exotic
Niggas couln't find it
Stacked as hell
Was bunrt up in my benny′s
Damn near couldn't bite it
Mom′s mad
Fucked around and gave her phone a virus
And how yo bitch give me head
I guess she open-minded
Got a chop
Not a Drac'
Yes this bitch Osiris
Shit be going through yo ears
So its nevermind it
Say you balling
Check his stats
What's his plus-minus
Punch licks before the whip
You was bus riding
Virgil did the shirt
But it′s Purple on my pants
Got a glizzy with a switch
Extra clip for his mans
You ain′t SBDSM if you ain't hit the store and jam
Brodie miss-
Finna pop him on a cam
Don′t be hopping in this ride
If you ain't really down to blam
Choppa got a grip
With a hunnid round under it
I can′t even give yo ass no bag 'cause you gon′ fumble it
You was playing with that WAP
Now what's up with it?
Please don't think that we don′t got no guns
′Cause we don't post that shit
Try me if you want and that′s the day you meet the Lord
Got that metal on me like a knight but not a sword
I would hate me too
I'm wearing shit you can′t afford
We been fucking for some hours
Damn I'm getting bored
You can′t tax me
Bitch I'm plugged in like a cord
We gon' flip that bitch
You bet not slide that Ford
Weed sticky
Bitch I′m off a three-five of S′mores
Camping in the bushes
Finna put him in a morgue
This is not tomato juice
Acky what I pour
Shit
I was searching for the red
Think I need a deuce
It's a light-ass day
Only hit for two
Better get your boo
Say she like it how I smell
Za and Jimmy Choo
Conversating with the Wock′ like
I'm feeling you
We just need your SSN
We can push it through
I′m moving different off the whippits and the gummy shrooms
Like how you pull five racks and they ain't even new?
Face a eighth say why not she think 42
Ron shooting basketballs
He don′t even hoop
(Fat nigga but the jeans skinny)
Helmut Langs on my body
I done paid like three-fifty
Big B's like runners but these not no 350s
How you got no cheese but out here tryna beef with me
How you got no cheese but out here tryna eat with me
I done poured a whole hart now I got a three with me
Left the ShittyBoyz show
Now I got a freak with me
And got her off the onion pack
Lil' bitch in here geeked with me
Choppa gay as hell
It got some nuts but it twerk so crazy
Running off, this bitch′ll pat yo back
Be done burped yo baby
Purple jeans on my ass, I don′t perp' though baby
Fire blew him like the wind
Put him in the Earth so crazy
Buffs hanging off my shirt
Collar got my tee drenched
Every time I open up my closet I get seasick
For my dough we done baked his ass like a deep dish
We′ll pull up waving sticks around on some Wii shit
Za smoke
Mirror tints
I can't see shit
LA, Miami, New York
I took three trips
.223s hitting everybody like a freak bitch
On a steak diet
You would probably think I lean sip
Riding ′round with a mini Drac' and a mean bitch
Fifty on me
Pull up on her in a Hellcat
She put that kitty on me
Why you go and grab a thirty-six
You got a mini Rollie
That′s a bitch watch
Looking like a bitch with yo bitch doing TikToks
Pints, 'bows, and pills
Bitch, I'm juggling
Cuddy in that Scat with the bee
Hear it bumbling
VIP booth throwing pape′
You hear it thundering
Off filet mignon
I′m sick I hear yo stomach rumbling
Sipping Quagmire
I might get fat like Peter Griffin
Talking 'bout he got the hoes but got a eater with him
Me and you got the same shoes but I look cleaner in ′em
(Like these exact same shoes)
Celine off the Chanel
I'm in this bitch triple C-ing
Me, Ju, and Scrumble caught a opp
We finna triple team him
Pause
New condo, I just spent a twenty on a Kaws
Catch him in that deep
Do him like I′m Jaws
ShittyBoyz
Dog Shit MIlitia
You know what the fuck going on
Writer(s): James Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
