BabyTron - Michigan Ave

Shit, I woke up feelin' crazy, I'm damn near sick
Still don't stop the grind
Day four of the calendar
I'm fuckin' with this bitch, Hokatiwi
Yeah (brrt, phew, phew), yeah (brrt, phew)
Yeah, up before for the birds, I ain't chirpin', you know?
I gotta keep it solid, ShittyBoyz, Dog $hit Militia

It's gon' take a lot longer to heal if you pickin' the scab
Got a play on eastern, told him meet me on Michigan Ave
This some retro red, I'ma nod off of sippin' a half
Turkey in the middle of Finkle, trippin', driftin' the 'Cat
Got a whole Kentucky Derby in the whip, hittin' the dash
If I try to teach you the game, is you gon' finish the class?
Opposition, if I see him, I'm whippin' his ass (bitch)
I'm on futuristic time, left that shit in my past
Uh-uh, it's too late, why you just now tryna zip up yo bag? (Lame)
Wouldn't even try it, blicky equipped, attached
Feelin' chatty, rockin' Virgil, wear it with the tags
Would've thought the scale up on the trampoline, we flippin' bags
I peeped y'all weakness, it ain't really shit to dribble past
These superchargers, it ain't really shit to wiggle fast
Gangy rockin' out the tour like we Nickelback
Gave bro a penny on that road, he brought a nickel back
Talk a body, up a quarter ticket, someone get a half
I remember shakin' in that coat, shit, my lips was chapped (swear)
Now it cost a thousand just to get a track
I ain't talkin' bout no rap, it's thirty for a verse
Hunnid giffy self-scannin', think I'm worryin' the clerk
I'll shake and bake him, hit from deep, I'm Curry with the work (three)
Unky told me, all the money, dirty on the first
Smokin' without carin', spillin' drank, I'm dirtyin' my shirt
Foggy than a bitch 'cause I done boxed it, blurry in the vert
Jefe say he chopped and screwed, he took a Perky with his syrup
D$M, make a custom jersey for my hearse
Wake up to some bullshit, you know birds, they early when they chirp
I cannot do the green, words slurry off the purp' (nope)
Just know Scrumble, he finna get scurvy if he Smurf
I don't think you got it in you to reach the finish line
Lookin' in yo eyes, I can tell you just the finished kind (finished)
They tally you, we pull through, slide down, finish guys (finished)
Take yo' money back to dukes, you can't get shit for five (finished)

Them lil' boys is finished
Finishin' move
One, two, three
It's over

Written by:
James Johnson

Publisher:
Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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