💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales 🎤💃

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Artiste : BabyTron
Titre : AMP
Nyah
Huh
Mm, mm, ayy, look (Meech)

Bounce back season, this life shit a trampoline (Ayy)

Soda need an oil change, like, where the fuck´s a Valvoline?
Turn him to a zombie, then I´m bouncin´ like a Trample Steam
See I´m making noise, I bet she shake it like a tamborine
No Chamelea, but cuddy ridin´ with a bag of beans
No limit on the MasterCard, I feel like Master P
Caught him rockin´ Loubs, hit his top, his head match his feet
Flyin´ down Southfield, my play on Rotunda
Ho so cold, she walk around, create a tundra
Bitch asked what business cuddy in, shit, nunya
Two middle fingers, Sleeve Austin, bitch, fuck ya
Shoot it ´til it´s hot, then use my gun to spark a pound of za
Told her that she better drive like every car around us cops

Uber ain´t no whistle blitz, I had him park around the block
Shit, me and my thug dropped a six, a Barter in the pop
He can´t shop until it´s deals, dead broke, EMS
The only time I´m lookin´ out for clearance in the TRX
I´m on 96 juggin´, Novi, then GR next
Improving every day, leave the booth with new PR set
Purple got my vision blurred, you´d think it´s belladonna (Bah)
Shit, I run the Mitten, from Enro to Escanaba
Why you rappin´ ´bout the Galleria? Never spent a dollar
Twin Glocks meet you at the door, I guess I´m Esteban-ing
Bitch gotta spoil me, plus give me loyalty

Tryna ride the wave, I hope you got some buoyancy
You would take her serious, she just a toy to me
Rappin´ like a king, but he don´t even get his royalties
Trippin´ up in Bape, you´d think I slipped on a banana peel
You ain´t never left the state, like, tell me how Atlanta feels
Fully hit his foreign, only thing that´s left a half a wheel
Glocky on me, I don´t wear a cape, still the Man of Steel
Turned that Accord into an AMG
Crib so big, it got a movie theater, AMC
You won´t catch me on a livestream ´less it´s AMP
I´ll up that drum and give him wings, it ain´t KFC
Shouldn´t have played with my chicken

Had to snatch neph´ up, you can´t play in this kitchen
Ain´t no three-strike system, you get one chance
Know some motherfuckers that´s a thousand, ain´t got one band
Run you down and swing the stick, Happy Gilmore
They ain´t think I´d do it, sold-out show at the Fillmore
Double cup of medicine, like, what I´m actin´ ill for?
On the 7, let me call Rich, I´m passin´ Biltmore
Drakey hold a dollar, shoot a quarter, bet it change him
Fah, fah, watch it break him down
Only when it´s beneficial to him, they´ll stay around (That´s why I´m out the way)
´Shroom on my head, clutch stick like I´m Toadsworth

Carhartt overalls, you´d think I´m doin´ road work
If they ain´t throwin´ salt, they tryna throw dirt
Well, it´s too bad it won´t work
Pull up with the .40, like a kid, tryna hit truth
But I ain´t tryna hit the club, I´m tryna hit you
Talkin´ ´bout he winnin´, not even a tad bit
Fuck a Fight Club, blicky on me, I ain´t Brad Pitt
Bean up the road with punches on some mad shit
Pull up, blowin´ torch, you would think I had to dabble it
One-of-one, second to none
You would think the truck roar, no, I´m just revvin´ it up
Once you cross that line, you dead to me, it ain´t no resurrection

Turn him to a memory, they catch me, ain´t no recollection
We just killed an opp, now let´s hit Party City
Bustdown turds on the arms, you know my Cartis shitty (Nyah, nyah)
Cuddy copped a couple bricks, fuck a Bitcoin
Dog Shit Militia, ain´t no barkin´, be done bit boy
Pause

ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
Long live $cams, you know?
Hey
Hey
Hey
Hey, hey, hey, nyah