BabyTron – Ice Cream Lyrics

Ice Cream Lyrics by BabyTron, Certified Trapper & Soulja Boy Ft.YN Jay & RiFF RAFF

Prince, this a hit
What’s up, nigga? You want smoke?
Back the fuck up, man
You throwin’ breath all around this bitch, foggin’ up my Buffs
Why is you talkin’ to the Custo like that, man (Yeah)
‘Cause he a fuckin’ Custo, shorty, and he mine
Just cover yo’ nose and shut the fuck up

Cuddy rockin’ Levi’s, but they the Denim Tears
You can’t grow these bowls in Michigan, you gotta send ’em here
Off the capital, should I play Sinclair or Saint Michael?
Think he lyin’ ’bout his life ’cause he don’t never say “Bible”

On yo’ block, I scavenger, I’m tryna sight see
With the Glock, I’m accurate, I put your ass up on a white tee
I try to do the average, I dropped a four up in a iced tea
Who the fuck just did yo drank, lil brodie got some light green (Lame)

Out the way, I bet I hit a deer without these high beams
Life a movie, bro pulled up shootin’ out the fight scene
Cuddy breakin’ glass like he Shaq servin’ ice cream
You won’t even see the pole season, y’all the [?]

New grip on the Drac’, this bitch naive
I been on tour all week, this like flight three
If you fuck with Certified Trapper, you get flights free
Soulja-fied Trapper, yeah, they comin’ with some new marines

Sometimes the Ls come before the dubs settle
Blowin’ exotic, eyes red like I popped a blood vessel
Tap a hat and up a rank ’cause you ain’t got enough level
First place when we racin’, all I know is stuck pedal

Top floor lookin’ at the sky, I deserve this shit
If that ho don’t make the right move, I’ma curve that bitch (Leave her in the past)
Plug in Argentina (Ooh)
[?], wish it hit Karina (Boom, Draco)
([?], wish it hit Karina)

Big Backwood, nigga, I’m smokin’ on [?] (Gang)
Ridin’ in a Hellcat, nigga, Grand Theft Auto (Yeah)
Smokin’ on Backwoods, high as Invader Zim (Gang)
Made the wrong move, then the Trapper gon’ spray at them (Brr)
Hit the location, where he at? I’m chasin’ him (Gang)
We ain’t askin’ no question, nigga, you know we takin’ shit (Hold on)
Big chopstick, nigga, this shit hold a hunnid (Gang)
Big Zaza blunt, nigga, stay blunted (Draco)
Duffel bag a hunnid K, nigga, all hunnids (Soulja)
Big Draco, nigga, I came up from nothin’

Ridin’ with a baby AK, this a micro Drac’
Nigga got some bullshit jewelry, throw yo’ ice away
Young nigga died for no reason, threw his life away (Nah)
Bitch want Coochie Man yesterday, but she want Mike today
Bitch say she got her driver license, where yo’ license plate?
You would think the Wock’ hit the ground the way they dropped the case (Wah)
He flashin’ dog money, that is not yo’ pay
Somebody spreadin’ cheese on the Doritos, it’s a nacho day
Clap-clap-clap, let me see that ass jump
Stankin’ ass bitch got on the same panties from last month
She ain’t even get the BBL, she got the ass pump
They used to show me love, but now they hate I got my cash up
.40 on me, bag up
Halloween, masked up (Okay)
Ride it out, draft up
Split fifty with my last buck
Drew Brees, she got passed up
Stick up, put the cash up (Baow)
Now he dead, dawg (Huh?)
What he said, dawg? (Gang, huh)

Hustling is my pedigree
If you not my pedigree, we can’t [exchange?] my energy
If you not what’s [?], if it’s not a check for me, flex for free
Everything is PPP, that’s paper view
Car got satellite, Mercedes coupe is pastel baby blue
Screens hang like them fangs on a mango saber tooth
I ain’t graduated but my house is guard gated
Money stressed like Tom Brady, Cadillac with Escalade—

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