💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales 🎤💃

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Artiste : BabyTron
Titre : DEEZ NUTS!
Ayy

Gang five deep, splash around like the Great Lakes

Why you uppin´ funny money? Why you thumbin´ fake pape´?
(Helluva made this beat, baby)
Do that got a CO2 tank? Why the fuck you totin´ fake Drac´?
Shoppin´ off of Alibaba, why you rockin´ fake Bape?
Karo, Karo, you sippin´ fake drank
Oh, okay, I see what´s goin´ on, boy, you fake-fake
I just made some real pape´ with a fake name
Tryna act like BabyTron, like, oh, okay, you fake James
Eatin´ off the banks, but I´ll stop to take a steak break
Amiris with the bandanas, lookin´ like I gangbang
What´s that one saying?
Sit your five-dollar ass down before I make change

No fakin´
201 plug on Telegram, he speak Croatian
Looking for his badge number, heard he givin´ infomation
Huh, congrats
Huh, congrats, congrats, you just played yourself, hang yourself
You should take the switch, turn it on and go and spank yourself
Yappin´ like the head honcho, must´ve went and ranked yourself
Wrestlin´ with the monkey on my back, I´m tryna win the title
Preachin´ in the booth, you would´ve thought these verses in the Bible
You would think she Pocahontas, lil´ bitch, she givin´ tribal
Zero losses on my record, Scottie Pippen in the finals

BR1 and 2 on wax, come and get a vinyl
Every time I throw a touchdown, that bitch a spiral
Treat these hoes like water bottles how they get recycled
I´ve been travelin´ all week, this my sixth arrival
Bitch head fire, my shoes got blew off
Ridin´ with that fah-fah-fah, let´s have a shoot off
That one shit´ll turn your titi into Rudolph
I know you read the shirt, shit, it´s hard to cut root off
He was grabbin´ on the blick, but didn´t bust and gave it blue balls
In middle school, I was trippin´ salmon to the blue hall
Man, I really hate it when your boo call

´Cause that´s the type of shit that really piss my boo off
Street ballin´, shit, it´s time to cut the rules off
Poured a deuce of that juice, I´m finna snooze off
Talkin´ for no reason, I´m just thinkin´, "Who´s dog?"
Get him out of here, point him to the door
When it´s time for a skit, I´m gon´ point him to the floor
Naw, I ain´t pointin´ at you, bro
The bitches ´round you kinda cute, I´m only pointin´ at the hoes
I can´t take her on a trip, she get annoyin´ on the road
That ´ll destroy a junkie´s nose
If your stash matched your height, you would be on Muggsy Bogues

Shit, my pockets paralyzed, but yeah
Shit, my pockets paralyzed, I walk around with bloody toes
Told you that the Quagen break was why I had a runny nose
An elbow of Joke´s Up, you´d think I´m smokin´ funny bone
Got Haribo flavors with these hoes, I give ´em gummy though
Chopper knocked the hair up off him, Kobe eight to twenty-four
Like, ain´t it twenty-eight to one? Or like, fifty to six?
Catch him out of town, you´d probably still see Jimmy with blick
The way the junkies returnin´, you´d think the rizzie the mix
Skied up in Philli´, motherfucker thought I was Kwame

Motherfucker thought that I was Kwame doin´ all this juggin´
Doin´ all this goddamn scammin´, all this damn hammin´
Asked if it´s designer, don´t you feel the goddamn fabric?
Bro a demon, shit, he swears to Satan
Why you sellin´ pints of green? They only cost a pair of Asics
If you had the sauce I got, you´d probably have to wear an apron
In interrogation with an agent look like Sarah Palin
Got a thing for them light-skinned, curly hair, with braces
I can´t help it
Huh, team player, I ain´t selfish
These nuts, booga-wooga-wooga