Home Music Lyrics BabyTron – Zap Zone

BabyTron – Zap Zone

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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: BabyTron]
Cuddy in the wilderness, he set up shop in North Dakota
Forty scored on purple with the seal like, “Point me towards the soda”
TRX fully loaded, this bitch all-terrain (Skrrt)
You on rookie level, boy, we ball on hall of fame
Didn’t Juice WRLD tell you these hoes all the same?
Fuck around and snatch yours ‘fore I pawn a chain
Doin’ all that starin’, fuck around and catch an ass whooping
Lil’ bitch got that widebody, I’ma call her Catwoman
Honkin’ like a meanie in that ‘Ghini, catch me Lamb’ pushing
Before the raps, I went and built a lil’ stash jugging
Punching numbers in, I told ’em that my card tweaking
Lost lil’ brodie out of nowhere, feel my heart shrinking
If you ain’t got a plan or no goals, you better start thinking
QP of that— (Yeah) you would think my arms reeking
Stuck off the Wocky, I’m just chillin’ in the dark, dreaming
Catch an opp up at the mall, I bet them members spark Neiman’s
Catch him trippin’ out in traffic, leave him in a parked Demon
Certified scammer, I’m with Certified Trapper
Pop was brown skin, I doubled up and turned my Sprite blacker
Life like a book, I just turned through five chapters
Me and Dee on Rodeo like, “Who ‘vert gon’ fly faster?” (Brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)
Finna have two freaky hoes eat each other like some beta fish
Pocket full of Benjamins, my granny think I’m banging Crip
Nah, this ain’t a fifth (Nope)
Wockhardt, sealed pint, catch me taking sips (Ah)
Slid down, face covered like case dismissed (Brrt)
Gang in love with his switch, he got a grave to dig (Brrt)
Turn them hams to bacon bits if they hang with pigs (Boom)
Playmaker turned coach, feel like Jason Kidd
Nah, for real, tell them boys we got a game to win (Yeah)
Nah, for real, tell them boys we got a game to win (Yeah, brrt, brrt)

[Verse 2: Certified Trapper]
Lenses hittin’ off the light
Bitch, I really live that life
If I catch a fuck nigga, I’ma hit him right on sight
Got the switch in the club, nigga, I don’t fuckin’ fight
Two Glocks on me, nigga, I’ll get your ass right
I got G’s on me, bitch, that’s why I stand different
Bitch, all five hundred pops, yeah, we bam different
I’ll up the fire on his ass and get to blicking
Bitch, ridin’ ’round, fat armrests with them bands in it
.223 missiles
Get up on that tip, I’ll blow it like a whistle
Bitch up on my dick, I’m in Cali’ smokin’ truffles
Bam super hard, all the hoes gon’ wanna fuck you
Zotty ‘Wood reeking
Countin’ up racks, backed up on the weekend
Get your pussy ass popped up, diss sneaking
Bitch grabbed my dick, got excited to see it
I might just put you in the kitchen, bitch, I need a hand (Yeah)
BabyTron, where you at? I need another double
Most these niggas gettin’ through zaps and they can’t bubble
I just fucked a bitch, bend back, I don’t fuckin’ cuddle
Pull up in somethin’ super fast, this a space shuttle
Nigga should’ve stayed down with it, I got yay for you
Spin back on his block, I’ma wait for him
If you ain’t pretty, bad bitch, I ain’t tryna fuck you
I don’t like cheap hoes, I’ll pay for it (Bend back)
Don’t put no zotty on the scale, it’s yay on it
Cheap-ass nigga, I got the counter with some pape’ on it
[Outro: Certified Trapper]
Pussy
Uh-huh, nigga
Bitch

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