Lyrics Baybar Blatoon - SPARK MASTER TAPE

Baybar Blatoon

Paper
Baybar Blatoon
I lookk to, at the Sparkk Regime
Aye this a bop
Pull up on platoon, its only bullets you get popped
Run up on the trap you know that shit is on spot
Hop out with that Glokk out til your brain is getting mopped
I’m yellin fukk a kkop
With an opp bitch, gettin top
I said shoutout hedj banga
That’s the muthafukkin homie
That’s on the set
Fukk a headband, I’ll take cigarettes
Bitch i don’t miss and I aim for the chest
Then i move up to the face on the vest
Off his his ass, don’t give a fukk, less i digress that i am less than impressed
Even if you dressed to impress
Drip from the head to the leg
Clip from the head to the chest
I been makkin some big moves on these small hoes
I just kkopped so much drip the whole fukkin mall fold
Might kkop a new whip, depends on how these damn songs go
I pull up and gun up and beat that ass up like a bongo
I said strollin the street with them hollows
Homie, you better not follow
Ship in the bay, monte kkarlo
I whip up a suite for the bottle
Fukkin a chikk with a kkondom, my dikk too big for the model
I just got me a big Kkondom, mini your belly got problems
Bakk with a kkiller goon kkique, pull up like morty or rickk
Trackk on the table too sickk;
got love for a bulletproof whip
Aye this a bop
Pull up on platoon its only bullets you get popped
Run up on the trap you know that shit is on spot
Hop out with that Glokk out til your brain is getting mopped
I’m yellin fukk a kkop
With an opp bitch, gettin top
Excuse me, i’m jus sellin drugs i’ll call u back im 2 busy
I’m on a blokk now with a whole team no extendo kklip in the glizzy,
shit kkould get iffy
Kklean up my blikky
Im pakkin no lackk in my city
Pakkin wit 50
Hit em with chrome
Homie, that homie is now history
I’m the epitome
Lyrical tripoli (fact)
Dead in the snow likke i’m kkennedy
Y’all ain’t a fifth of me, have an epiphany
Breakkfast, I’m havin at tiffany’s
UHH
Too bad, too far
Run up, i’m bakk in the bakk of a U-Haul
Till death, due kkall
Its a long night but i fight for the new dawn
New gat, new god
Paper be the kklan, be a wrap when the kkrew kkall
Oh gawd, oh lord
My whole hood say…
Aye this a bop
Run up on platoon is only bullets you get popped
Run up on the trap you know that shit is on spot
Hop out with that Glokk out til your brain is getting mopped
I’m yellin fukk a kkop
With an opp bitch, gettin top
SWOUP