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SUBMIT/CORRECT LYRICS
Name:
E-Mail:
Artist:
Babytron
Song:
Prince Of The Mitten
Lyrics:
[Intro] Hey Helluva made this beat, baby Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T Phew (It's Lando, your bitch know, don't let your bitch go, nigga) Hey Hey, hey, ShittyBoyz [Verse 1 - Jesus Shuttlesworth Beat] Me and Stan ran it up off of EDD Bitch'll never get a ring like CP3 Ain't no coffee in my cup, bitch, I'm drinking lean Caught him broad day, easy breezy, I ain't need a beam 12 had to let me go, I told 'em I ain't see a thing Yeezy fiend, closet stacked with Adidas sneaks Trackhawks, Hellcats, shit look like Need for Speed Best believe I'ma be the GOAT when I leavе the league [Verse 2 - Dark Web Beat] Punchеr next to me, made a hundred off the dark web Doggy got that fake Bape, hundred for a shark head T-shirt Chrome, tell the lil' bitch my heart dead Vanilla this, vanilla that, the young Tron was giffy grabbing Made his whole car stop, I f*cked around and 50 cal'ed it Late night, you won't be talk, you something like Jimmy Fallon Put that lil' f*cking gun down, my hitman really active [Verse 3 - I'm Good Pt. 5 Beat] Two titties, give your ass a hundred piece Track.2s, walk around in thousand dollar running sneaks Ksubi jeans looking tight 'cause it's a dub in these 2014, True Religions, belt double G's So much ice on my neck, the bitches in the club gon' freeze All the shit I seen up in my life'll make your stomach quease Thinking shit sweet? Huh, come and see Fell asleep and woke up confused, I done drunk a three [Verse 4 - I Dog Hoes Beat] I been dogging hoes since I was twelve, this shit ain't nothing new Dog Shit Militia, up some pape' or we won't f*ck with you Five thousand on the Cartiers, I got the buffest view f*ck around and dunk on yo ass if it's up with you [Verse 5 - Hands On Beat] If the chopstick jam, shit, I'm getting hands on If yo pieces hitting, why you never put yo mans on? Mm-hmm, cut it out, you a ham, bro Thousand dollar coat, thousand dollar coffee cup I got fifties, I got hunnids, lil' bitch, the joggy stuffed Pendant after pendant, I'ma have Hutchie sauce me up Touch a hair on me? Guarantee we sending doggy up [Verse 6 - Legendary Beat] Free Ri', what brodie did? That shit was legendary Poured an eight in January, I was sleep till February Pretty bitch, she look too nice but the head was scary Three-five after three-five like it's necessary [Verse 7 - Slipping Beat] Five thousand dollar fit, I'm dressing excellent I slide down, you the type be sending messages Nah, for real, see him out, I bet we pressing him I ain't road running, shit, I sent seven Mexicans [Verse 8 - Whole Lotta Choppas Beat] Whole lotta choppas at the spot, bitch, we like the army I just hit a bitch off the buffs, say she like the Cartis I can out-smoke Bob, bitch, I'm high as Marley Chilling at the crib making pape', ain't the type to party [Verse 9 - Rusty Beat] Chopstick rusty, unky sliding with an old rifle Sliding in a Striker, no registration, no title
