Beyond Turnt
Beyond Turnt

BabyTron - Beyond Turnt Lyrics

6

Beyond Turnt Lyrics

(Getta Beats)
Bitch, yeah
What up, Getta?
Damn, fuck, shit, yeah

We be rolling out like some Autobots, I mean Decepticons
BabyTron, she throw the pussy at me then I'm Megatron
201s green, I got a vendor, he from Lebanon
Road running, fill the foreign up down at the Chevron
Five thousand dollar fit, I give the bitch expensive vibes
High as hell getting shoes, I had to guess my size
Mike Jordan tendencies, bitch, I'm the best alive
Winter 2021, it's apply some pressure time
201, one-on-one, I'm at the self-scan tweaking (Yeah, huh, huh)
201, one-on-one, I'm at the self-scan tweaking
I ain't gotta throw a jab, I'll have my mans beat him
Why you taking pics by that Chally? That's yo mans' Demon
If I blow a whistle, guarantee that Stan leave 'em
Zip of Runtz in these Ksubi jeans, it got my pants reeking
MacBook, writers, and some (Fyoo), it's a scam meeting
Two hunnid dollar joggy, fifty it in, this what scammers do
I'll let the hammer loose, fuck around and handle you
You be caking with the bitch, I'm finna get my candle blew
Jeff cashed the buffs and then I did, that's the scammer view
Pouring potion in the Lab, it's getting hazardous
Active road runner, on my way to go and jam some chips
Bible in the trunk, hope God with me if I crash the whip
I'm a scammer, unky in the trap with some slabs and bricks
Wide open, game winner, promise I won't pass this bitch
Asian off the Cookie, Jeremy Lin in a standard clip
I could up some dog shit, I ain't just acting rich
Seen you up at Somerset, why you wasn't dragging shit?

Flying out
Flying out to the bank
Flying to the bay to link with, huh

Flying to the bank to link with Ghazi it's a bag cut
Hunnid on me, gotta thank God 'cause I ain't have none
Shooter off a 30, riding 'round tryna crash something
Would've thought this bitch a chopstick but it's a handgun, huh
Going hard in the paint like Waka, I'm Margiela stepping
Why you hating in the comments? Don't you work until eleven?
Scratch that, don't you work a motherfucking ten-to-seven?
Acting tough? Doggy probably gon' get sent to Heaven
Huh, buffs on my face, I ain't bench pressing
Huh, five plus with it, Nike tech veteran
Huh, unky wrist golden, swear that he a (?) legend
Two thousand dollar fits in high school, I was the best dressing
Sloppy with the switch, it's fully auto, call it StanWill
You don't know yo damn pills, boy, that's a Advil
Better lay yo dumbass down or better stand still
It's a stick up, you move a muscle? Get yo mans killed
Pants filled up with dog shit, look like a landfill
Doggy out his beans, talking shit gon' get his can peeled
On the opps block, they ain't never heard a Lamb' squeal
Heavyweight punch title, bitch, I'm the champ still, huh
Team full of bullies, beam on the fully
Exotic flower on me, please do not swing me no Cookie
Bitch, you got a OnlyFans, don't try to swing me no pussy
Hutch charms got me cold than a bitch, swing me a hoodie
Fuck, I'm cold-hearted, ice in my veins like D'Angelo
Fully aim it at his melon, I'll bust his cantaloupe
Sucks that you broke, I know you sick you can't reach the antidote
Riding on this wave like a pirate? I'll let the cannon blow

Huh, ShittyBoyz

Writer(s): James Johnson III
Copyright(s): Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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