Extra Butter BabyTron

[Intro]
(Ayo, Mark A)

[Verse]
Exotic smoker, foreign sneaks cost like three ounces
RIP Bernie Mac, swinging sticks, Mr. 3000
Road running, phone on 1X, I can see mountains
Doggy talking too tough, I'm finna see 'bout it
Going 180, driving blowed, I should seatbelt it
Red bottoms, bitch, I'm lava stepping, think my feet melting
Tryna win, you need a team, you can't be selfish
Five hundred dollar pop, eating rice, so I keep belching
If you put your mind to it, yeah, it's possible
Track and field Supreme pants, hurdled every obstacle
Going MIA, shit, I'm talking where it's tropical
Get him knocked off, he touch a hair or a follicle
Catch up to me? Shit, that's impossible
Improbable, chance is very astronomical
Better back back, swear to God that the chopper full
All the scam alerts nowadays, we responsible
Russian Draco knock you out like it's Ivan Drago
Spray some Creed on, then go and punch, I feel like Apollo
Backwood, Backwood, I don't get high with frontos
Talking 'bout some punchlines, but you got a nine like Rondo
You need some new bars
What the fuck is that noise? You need a new car
What the fuck is that piece? You need a new charm
White buffalos, four thousand for these two arms
Good Essentia, water purified
Talking 'bout a dub, you ain't nowhere even near a five
Punch God, grab three jacks, then go and clear the lines
Talking 'bout some Wock', but your fridge had some beer inside
Fuck a Budweiser, three-five and the bud fire
The real source, fuck around and get your plug fired
I just call it how I see it like an umpire
4 AM, fifty ball, I'm just countin' up tired
Remember sneakin' out the crib on some bullshit
Out late ridin', everybody had a full clip
Do the dash like, "If you see the hook, dip"
But every time we touch down, that's a good skit
Feel like Bruce Leroy when he had the glow
In that one bag, MacBook in here, cracking codes
Stop talking 'bout the scams, you ain't active, bro
Stop asking 'bout the bag or I'm taxing, ho
Fuck, shit, fucked around and left the car wrecked
Why this bitch talking crazy 'fore she put on Carmex?
Scam vet', punching drip up on Farfetch
You twenty-six and you still don't have a car yet?
Why you at the bus stop?
Had to beat his ass 'fore I shot him, hate a tough opp
Ballin' now 'cause back in high school, ain't get enough clock
Got away from rock bottom, shit, now I'm up top