Baybar Blatoon - SPARK MASTER TAPE

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