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#CERTIFIED Video (MV)




Performed By: BabyTron
Language: English
Length: 2:10
Written by: James Edward Johnson II




BabyTron - #CERTIFIED Lyrics
Official




F*ck, shit, woo, nyah
Hmm, woo, hmm, woo

You walkin' 'round with a point to prove, boy, don't get popped
Huh, yeah, haha
You walkin' 'round with a point to prove
Boy, don't get shot (f*ck, brrp), they gotta switch blocks
Turned the yo to Harden, then I slap it like it's Chris Rock
Japanese bitch, keep a Glock, plus, she kickbox
We'll turn 'em
Man, what the f*ck? Hell nah (what are those?)
We'll turn them big ass boots to some flip-flops
Two Glocks, thirty shots, wrapped him like a gift shop
F*ck yo' baby mama, grab yo' son then do a TikTok
They gon' have to call the (woo)
We done left this bitch hot (woo)
Worse than the hoes-ass boy, how you dick hop
When it rain, it pours, when I walk out, I'ma drip-drop
Runnin' in the sto' for a pop, I'm tryna sip (uh)
Runnin' in the sto' for a pop, I'm tryna sip Wock'

Nyah, nyah
Uh, f*ck
Shit, hmm, hmm, hmm (hey)

Pull up on they block and drop a ninety from the right angle
With them slimy guys, them grimy guys, don't let your ice dangle
Trippin' off the shrooms, like, "Why my eyes create a triangle?"
Woo, woo
You a Captain Save-A-Ho, I'm the bad guy
If we catch him stealin', burn his body while his hands tied
Dsm, the go's the go, bitch, we the franchise
Deep in my bag, I'm lookin' like I'm tryna grab fry
Bitch, where's yo' friends? Need the yerky, where's the tens?
Need a script, where's the meds? Back to y'all, where's the bed?
When I'm 'round the hoes, my favorite question always, "Where's the head?"
I can't go in public no more, I ain't got nowhere to spend
Opps stayin' out the way, so we ain't got nowhere to bend
Shit, just put it on the floor and send the lo' on where to send
Actin' like he on the run, he just goin' nowhere again
Arguin' with my ho late at night, I don't know where I been
Bitch, bye
Hundred shots, now his titi cryin', it's a fish fry
Me and Certi' dumpin' out the window, let us get by
On the road, doin' shows, f*ck hoes, get high
(Huh, huh, huh)
Tryna get up in our zone? That's a uh-uh
Tryna flick a pic' with bro? That's a uh-uh
Reachin' for somethin' that's froze? That's a uh-uh
Certi' got me in that mode, you hear

Shittyboyz, Dog Shit Militia
Long live $cam
You tripped, Certi'
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




F*ck, shit, woo, nyah
Hmm, woo, hmm, woo

You walkin' 'round with a point to prove, boy, don't get popped
Huh, yeah, haha
You walkin' 'round with a point to prove
Boy, don't get shot (f*ck, brrp), they gotta switch blocks
Turned the yo to Harden, then I slap it like it's Chris Rock
Japanese bitch, keep a Glock, plus, she kickbox
We'll turn 'em
Man, what the f*ck? Hell nah (what are those?)
We'll turn them big ass boots to some flip-flops
Two Glocks, thirty shots, wrapped him like a gift shop
F*ck yo' baby mama, grab yo' son then do a TikTok
They gon' have to call the (woo)
We done left this bitch hot (woo)
Worse than the hoes-ass boy, how you dick hop
When it rain, it pours, when I walk out, I'ma drip-drop
Runnin' in the sto' for a pop, I'm tryna sip (uh)
Runnin' in the sto' for a pop, I'm tryna sip Wock'

Nyah, nyah
Uh, f*ck
Shit, hmm, hmm, hmm (hey)

Pull up on they block and drop a ninety from the right angle
With them slimy guys, them grimy guys, don't let your ice dangle
Trippin' off the shrooms, like, "Why my eyes create a triangle?"
Woo, woo
You a Captain Save-A-Ho, I'm the bad guy
If we catch him stealin', burn his body while his hands tied
Dsm, the go's the go, bitch, we the franchise
Deep in my bag, I'm lookin' like I'm tryna grab fry
Bitch, where's yo' friends? Need the yerky, where's the tens?
Need a script, where's the meds? Back to y'all, where's the bed?
When I'm 'round the hoes, my favorite question always, "Where's the head?"
I can't go in public no more, I ain't got nowhere to spend
Opps stayin' out the way, so we ain't got nowhere to bend
Shit, just put it on the floor and send the lo' on where to send
Actin' like he on the run, he just goin' nowhere again
Arguin' with my ho late at night, I don't know where I been
Bitch, bye
Hundred shots, now his titi cryin', it's a fish fry
Me and Certi' dumpin' out the window, let us get by
On the road, doin' shows, f*ck hoes, get high
(Huh, huh, huh)
Tryna get up in our zone? That's a uh-uh
Tryna flick a pic' with bro? That's a uh-uh
Reachin' for somethin' that's froze? That's a uh-uh
Certi' got me in that mode, you hear

Shittyboyz, Dog Shit Militia
Long live $cam
You tripped, Certi'
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: James Edward Johnson II
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING

Back to: BabyTron

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