Paroles de la chanson AMP par BabyTron

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Paroles de la chanson AMP par BabyTron

Nyah
Huh
Mm, mm, ayy, look (Meech)

Bounce back season, this life shit a trampoline (Ayy)
Soda need an oil change, like, where the fuck's a Valvoline?
Turn him to a zombie, then I'm bouncin' like a Trample Steam
See I'm making noise, I bet she shake it like a tamborine
No Chamelea, but cuddy ridin' with a bag of beans
No limit on the MasterCard, I feel like Master P
Caught him rockin' Loubs, hit his top, his head match his feet

Flyin' down Southfield, my play on Rotunda
Ho so cold, she walk around, create a tundra
Bitch asked what business cuddy in, shit, nunya
Two middle fingers, Sleeve Austin, bitch, fuck ya
Shoot it 'til it's hot, then use my gun to spark a pound of za
Told her that she better drive like every car around us cops
Uber ain't no whistle blitz, I had him park around the block
Shit, me and my thug dropped a six, a Barter in the pop
He can't shop until it's deals, dead broke, EMS
The only time I'm lookin' out for clearance in the TRX
I'm on 96 juggin', Novi, then GR next
Improving every day, leave the booth with new PR set

Purple got my vision blurred, you'd think it's belladonna (Bah)
Shit, I run the Mitten, from Enro to Escanaba
Why you rappin' 'bout the Galleria? Never spent a dollar
Twin Glocks meet you at the door, I guess I'm Esteban-ing
Bitch gotta spoil me, plus give me loyalty
Tryna ride the wave, I hope you got some buoyancy
You would take her serious, she just a toy to me
Rappin' like a king, but he don't even get his royalties
Trippin' up in Bape, you'd think I slipped on a banana peel
You ain't never left the state, like, tell me how Atlanta feels
Fully hit his foreign, only thing that's left a half a wheel

Glocky on me, I don't wear a cape, still the Man of Steel
Turned that Accord into an AMG
Crib so big, it got a movie theater, AMC
You won't catch me on a livestream 'less it's AMP
I'll up that drum and give him wings, it ain't KFC
Shouldn't have played with my chicken
Had to snatch neph' up, you can't play in this kitchen
Ain't no three-strike system, you get one chance
Know some motherfuckers that's a thousand, ain't got one band
Run you down and swing the stick, Happy Gilmore
They ain't think I'd do it, sold-out show at the Fillmore
Double cup of medicine, like, what I'm actin' ill for?

On the 7, let me call Rich, I'm passin' Biltmore
Drakey hold a dollar, shoot a quarter, bet it change him
Fah, fah, watch it break him down
Only when it's beneficial to him, they'll stay around (That's why I'm out the way)
'Shroom on my head, clutch stick like I'm Toadsworth
Carhartt overalls, you'd think I'm doin' road work
If they ain't throwin' salt, they tryna throw dirt
Well, it's too bad it won't work
Pull up with the .40, like a kid, tryna hit truth
But I ain't tryna hit the club, I'm tryna hit you
Talkin' 'bout he winnin', not even a tad bit
Fuck a Fight Club, blicky on me, I ain't Brad Pitt

Bean up the road with punches on some mad shit
Pull up, blowin' torch, you would think I had to dabble it
One-of-one, second to none
You would think the truck roar, no, I'm just revvin' it up
Once you cross that line, you dead to me, it ain't no resurrection
Turn him to a memory, they catch me, ain't no recollection
We just killed an opp, now let's hit Party City
Bustdown turds on the arms, you know my Cartis shitty (Nyah, nyah)
Cuddy copped a couple bricks, fuck a Bitcoin
Dog Shit Militia, ain't no barkin', be done bit boy
Pause

ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
Long live $cams, you know?
Hey
Hey
Hey
Hey, hey, hey, nyah

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