"On You" lyrics
It's it, man
Different Breed the mixtape, man
I know y'all been waiting on this shit but I got to it
It's BabyTron in this bitch
Youngest nigga with a roll
Ha, yep
Turn around, turn around like a roundabout
Fuck you, bitch, where was you when I was down and out?
Yo bitch on the phone with you while I'm pounding out
After I hit, she on the side like she grinding out
Now let me show you what them thousands 'bout
Upping rolls on the 'Gram, you can count it out
I used to be broke but then a nigga found it out
These Margielas, baby girl, just try and sound it out
Good strips on me, she asked did I hit the Powerball
Nah, I just hit the road and came back with a twenty ball
Paid three for the shirt, that's a 'Gelo Ball
Two sticks on my hip like I'm Darth Maul
Hop in the whip and hit the road in a Nike fit
I got them pieces on me fucking up I-96
Dumb ho call me broke? I'll thrust on that grimy bitch
Scammed a lady out her house rent, on some slimy shit
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you
Ayy, bro, we gotta score like it's fourth and go
And if you get in the way, just know I got a pole
Seen a lot of shit in my life that done hurt my soul
But you never know, I stay smiling with a onion roll
Got a white boy with that shit down in Brighton
Do I look like Floyd? We got chops, we ain't fucking fighting
I'm locked in, open them notes and I'm fucking writing
Good screws in my ears, they dance in the fucking lighting
Swipe this, scam that, I love them fucking Pros
Boy took one to the chest like he Derrick Rose
Gift cards, gift cards, I got a lot of those
You not getting money with them Roshes on yo fucking toes
Eleven bands in these pockets, that's that Klay Thompson
Give the plug ten, I got twelve left like I'm John Stockton
Good rocket in my pocket, pull it back and I'ma cock it
And if he got beef with me, we can never drop it
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you, gang
Different Breed the mixtape, man
I know y'all been waiting on this shit but I got to it
It's BabyTron in this bitch
Youngest nigga with a roll
Ha, yep
Turn around, turn around like a roundabout
Fuck you, bitch, where was you when I was down and out?
Yo bitch on the phone with you while I'm pounding out
After I hit, she on the side like she grinding out
Now let me show you what them thousands 'bout
Upping rolls on the 'Gram, you can count it out
I used to be broke but then a nigga found it out
These Margielas, baby girl, just try and sound it out
Good strips on me, she asked did I hit the Powerball
Nah, I just hit the road and came back with a twenty ball
Paid three for the shirt, that's a 'Gelo Ball
Two sticks on my hip like I'm Darth Maul
Hop in the whip and hit the road in a Nike fit
I got them pieces on me fucking up I-96
Dumb ho call me broke? I'll thrust on that grimy bitch
Scammed a lady out her house rent, on some slimy shit
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you
Ayy, bro, we gotta score like it's fourth and go
And if you get in the way, just know I got a pole
Seen a lot of shit in my life that done hurt my soul
But you never know, I stay smiling with a onion roll
Got a white boy with that shit down in Brighton
Do I look like Floyd? We got chops, we ain't fucking fighting
I'm locked in, open them notes and I'm fucking writing
Good screws in my ears, they dance in the fucking lighting
Swipe this, scam that, I love them fucking Pros
Boy took one to the chest like he Derrick Rose
Gift cards, gift cards, I got a lot of those
You not getting money with them Roshes on yo fucking toes
Eleven bands in these pockets, that's that Klay Thompson
Give the plug ten, I got twelve left like I'm John Stockton
Good rocket in my pocket, pull it back and I'ma cock it
And if he got beef with me, we can never drop it
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you
Y'all ain't pass state troops, with that shit on you
Turn around on the road so they won't get on you
Y'all ain't never gave a bitch your all and had her quit on you
Talking crazy so when I see you, I'm gon' spit on you, gang
