BabyTron – Vintage Tron, Pt.1 / Vintage Tron, Pt. 2 Lyrics

Vintage Tron, Pt.1 / Vintage Tron, Pt. 2 Lyrics – BabyTron


Gregory Helms, the way I’m dripping leave the Levi’s broken
Wild cat formation, buddy, I got plenty motion
SKS’ll pause him mid sentence like a semicolon
‘Vetting in the Z06, you ever see me Chevy rolling
I sent some shots out this bitch like I’m Big30
Ice cream VVs got me froze like a McFlurry
Brodie sell so many blues and oranges, need a Knicks jersey
If the whip ain’t ’22 or newer, it ain’t drift worthy
Fuck the easy way, I never care about using the stairs
They can’t never take my spot from me, this ain’t musical chairs
Backwoods and Quagen, heard yo combo a brew and a square
Ninety-nine percent of who be talking be shooting the air
Riding ’round with a rifle and a hunting license
Finna take one cup and put another cup inside it
Just know on the other side that the sun is shining
Everybody had something to say, becoming silent
Hit her from the back, you would’ve thought this bitch popped a bar
Shooter out his shit like, “Chill out, gang, man, that’s not the car”
Pour a yeah by the deuece, I just wipe my heart
Drop an album, get some popcorn and watch the charts
I’m just chilling at the [?] praying that they drop it
Nowadays every move big, weighing out the options
Heard this white boy don’t miss, play it like I’m Dončić
When it’s money talk, doggy always changing up the topic
I can’t breathe off the tree, this a chronic wheez
If it’s coins on the floor, I run around with Sonic speed
I don’t know who fucking with the team, honestly
Seen every state, might hit space for an odyssey
Drunk a three then a five, you ain’t odd as me
Tell a bitch like it’s “prolly”, not “probably”
I could have a mill’ cash on me, wouldn’t cop a plea
Probably won’t understand a thing if it ain’t Guapanese
Without the money I feel lonelier than Akon
Lonelier than Speaker Knockerz, glad I got some pape’ now
With all these snakes is around, cannot relate now
Stay dangerous, it ain’t no point in being safe now
Strap my nuts on and did a great job
Said you want smoke with us? You must be laced, huh
Wave rider, you gon’ go copy, paste, huh
West Coast Customs, pull up here and get a paint job
Buffed up, swinging sticks, feel like A-Rod
3 PM, fall asleep, that’s a drank nod
I’m so high like, oh shit, hey, God
Fully switch glitch with a Glock, got a K mod
So much money off of BOA, you think I bank rob
Couldn’t even touch the backboard, I can bang now
Would’ve memorized yo last four but I’m changed now
Slide around like the task force with them thangs out
Tuck yo kid, I’m with slimeballs and jankmeisters
I’m on go, fuck a break, you a take-fiver
Bullet sharper than a sword, this a brain slicer
Hunnid overall, I got the hater shaking game sliders
Road running south, Raising Cane’s then hit Zaxby’s
This some top shelf, I’m a face, you can’t match me
Red beams on it, thought his face had some acne
Habibi dropping crates full of bombs like he Acme
Spinning with the devil, Tasmanian
Performing MIAs, I could feel a stadium
Bitch, I’m damn near in the O, I caught a play in Adrian
Tron Brady, I’m a winner, we the Patriots
High as hell, I think I’m sinking in the couch
I’m a rude fuck, I be thinking with my mouth
Shit pretty simple, you just need some cheese to get a mouth
You twenty-three, you think yo mama want you sleeping in her house?
Fuck, shit, this that vintage Tron
Seven hunnid dollar hoop shorts, these some vintage Dons
Back in school you was the type that we was picking on
SBD$M, bitch, we been the mob
Ride around with Warzone shit, I could kill a squad
Four years later, bitch, we still them guys
Gotta take a pic, shit, I’m feeling fly
I ain’t cool with my stash unless a mill’ inside
Spent ten at Melrose killing time
I don’t play the fake game, shit, I’m real with mine
Selling both thangs, whole thangs, we don’t deal with dime
All the shit I dodged, I thank God that I’m still alive

Ben Roethlisberger, got a play down in Pittsburgh
Give it all I got times two like six thirds
I was young as hell in the streets, learned from Big Bird
If it ain’t no juice, I get grumpier than Squidward
Thought that I’d lose, up a roll, bet that hit nerves
Scam Likely call on yo phone, shit, that might be me
Chopstick’ll make you tuck and duck like you YPC
Five dollar hangs off the chain, that’s a ICT
On the seven with some chicken, I ain’t stop at Mighty Wings
Money talks, mine yelling at the top of its lungs
Dave Grohl, rock out, pop out with the drum
Light rain, put the top down just for fun
Ten thousand dollar fit with the Crocs just because
He ain’t got no stripes like a skinless zebra
I can ping-ping-ping with a BINless Visa
Same me, up a ticket still in Adidas
Do you know what year it is? Why you tryna drip in Filas?