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babytron - chess players lyrics
chess players lyrics
[intro: babytron & daboii]
b_tch, yeah
f_ck, sh_t, d_mn
huh, yeah (tron, what we on, n_gga?)
n_gga, on the gang
[verse 1: babytron]
three_five of sp_ce runtz, i’m floating like a astronaut
twenty in my ksubis, finna walk inside saks and shop
you talking big money sh_t but you don’t have a knot
buffs white as h_ll, same time got the blackest pop
hunnid rounder, ahki sliding, finna whack a opp
two chains bust, next month finna grab a watch
gucci windbreaker, shoes, and the matching socks
if you in the field, young boy, you better grab a glock
[verse 2: daboii]
yeah, if you in the field, young boy, you better grab straps
chains wet, send them bad hoes, i been had that
i’ll let off the first shot and get the last laugh
and when i whip that big b_tch out, bettеr back_back
b_tch keep telling me she miss mе, with her sad_ass
pull up on yo block like lamar, where the stash at?
i’ll strip a n_gga out his pockets and his cash app
b_tch keep tryna suck my d_ck, where the cash at?
[verse 3: babytron]
“purple” on the tag, how the f_ck is my pants black?
touchdown in cali, where the f_ck is my lamb’ at?
hunnid 201s, hit the store with a jam pack
what is yo jeans right now? f_ck a flashback
life double g, i just spent a sleeve in gucci
chopsticks right next to me, i ain’t eating sushi
checkmate, chess player, finna put my feet in louis
backwood, backwood, b_tch, i ain’t seen a doobie
[verse 4: daboii]
3.5 in the ‘wood, i ain’t seen a doob’
that n_gga keep asking ’bout the opps, i ain’t seen ’em, dude
backdoor me once and that’s that, i can’t see it through
“boy, why you cut them n_ggas off?”, i ain’t need ’em, fool
thought i had a drop on a opp but i seen [?]
if i mix the qua’ with the pop, b_tch, that’s beetlejuice
that .9 on me, i’m in yo hood, i’m just breezing through
yeah, that p_ssy n_gga, he ain’t make it, you ain’t seen the news?
[verse 5: babytron]
pour three sixes back to back, i’m a evil dude
with my gang rocking bathing ape, we just swinging through
cut the traction off in this f_cker, i’ll swing the coupe
habibi, he the handy man, b_tch, he bringing tools
[verse 6: daboii]
call tron, “boy, i’m in the d, bring the tools out”
if i don’t got that b_tch on my hip, i don’t move ’round
if we get the drop on yo ass, boy, don’t move now
b_tch keep lying ’bout some sh_t that i knew about
[verse 7: babytron]
glock with the, if i fl!ck this b_tch, it’s a fully
six hunnid dollar shark head when i zip the hoodie
eighty dollar eighthy in the ‘wood, i ain’t hitting cookie
unky in the kitchen with some, finna whip some bully
i’m either off the tech or the three stripe joggy
thousand dollar double cup, no, this ain’t iced coffee
[verse 8: daboii & babytron]
body on it but he still bought the .9 off me
man, this ain’t no regular_ass j’s, these off_whites, doggy
this b_tch got a whole ring, get yo wife off me
five bands and a pint, what yo life cost me
you gon’ catch a bullet, tryna take some ice off me
call of duty weapon, ar with knife, doggy
[outro: babytron]
ayy, sh_ttyboyz
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