BabyTron – Cody Banks

BabyTron – Cody Banks Lyrics

Artist: BabyTron
Song: Cody Banks

If this sh#t was easy, everybody’ll rich
It don’t matter what I do, I cannot get her off my dick
I’m sick as hell you switching teams, on some James Harden sh#t
Bro, you bet not try to check me ’cause you can’t guard me

You can’t f#ck with my team, you ball like it’s 2K
Shit, I’m higher than the mountains, riding ’round in the bay
She gon’ pop up like a quiz, I can’t show her where I stay
Like a third string quarterback, n#gg#, I don’t play

What I’m pouring in my pop is lavender, you sipping eucalyptus
I’m flying through the trenches, feel like Franklin, finna do a mission
You see this gun? I’m finna shoot you with it
I was doing fraud, you was in the kitchen doing dishes

I was in the street, you was on the— [Man
I was in the street, you was on the porch
I was in thе street, you was contemplating on the steps
Don’t bе a dummy, put yo money on the best

Don’t be a dummy, put yo money on the vets
Don’t be a dummy tryna ball with superstars
Pull up in a two-seater, Chally super charged
sh#tting on ’em like a toilet or a shooting guard

Finna get the bag on like Santa Clause
I’m just tryna catch a opp and send him bullets, Randy Moss
I’m just tryna get the cheese like they put it on a trap
Boy, I’m from the Murder Mitt, where you’ll lick if you lack, no cap

I don’t correlate with n#gg#s ‘less you DSM
Walking out the store with two fifties like a quarter M
n#gg#s hate to see you shining brighter, rather see you dim
b#tch was bad before but now she not, she just like Lil Kim

7.62s left him hurt just like the curse
All she got is p#ss#, not a single dollar in her purse
Money long, it was short like Lil Uzi Vert
I done hit this b#tch from every angle, now she call me “Kurt”

Pop out with some big sh#t, catch me shooting Deagles
Out in traffic, you can’t tell it’s me, I’m in a Buick Regal
Talking ’bout he got a scam bible? I hate stupid people
He an agent on the low, I call him “Cody Banks”

Tick-tock-tick-tock, b#tch, yo Rollie fake
Fit a eight into a twenty-four and do the Kobe fade
Celine slippers in the crib, this a cozy day
Get it for the low then sell it top dollar

Drop his dawg without even touching him like a shock collar
Let this bullet knock you out, we are not squashers
Shoes with the spikes on these hoes, this is not soccer
b#tch, the soda cost a rack

Feel like Central Cee, blowing doja in the ‘Cat
Same thang, sh#t, a cobra and a rat
Automatic pump stretch him out like yoga on a mat
f#ck, shit
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com

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BabyTron Lyrics – Cody Banks

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Release Year: 2022