Dookie Season Lyrics – BabyTron
Singer: BabyTron
Title: Dookie Season
(Damn, Machu, why’d you have to do ’em like that?)
We sit around, spark the ‘Woods up but this is not a camp
Rich got the peach Crush, turned it to a lava lamp
Bust the SPA for fifty-five then do my Sada dance
Lil’ bougie b#tch with the grip, p#ss# got some clamps
Dawg walked up a lil’ too fast, I just shot a fan
Underwater f#cking on yo b#tch, I’m the Aquaman
I been getting money since n#gg#s was selling five for ten
In the bay going [?] watch a n#gg# ghost ride the Benz
I’ma jam the chip and slide, never f#cked with pots and pans
Stepping on sh#t with two straps, I’m the Prada Man
Dunking with the chop, knock yo wig off like Juwanna Mann
In a blacked-out Suburban, looking like Obama mans
Put the strap down and get knocked out, I got a lot of hands
When I was broke, I was lonely, now I’m up, I got a lot of friends
Told Tron to meet me at the booth, it’s time to politic
Me and bro gon’ f#ck around and make some of the hottest sh#t
I swear to God, no cap
Sliding through the city with a .30 like Ordóñez
Out of town, cheating on my b#tch, told her my phone dead
She see I’m balling like the NBA, she gave me pro head
Bust a nut, b#tch kept going, told her to go ‘head
Give me ’bout fifteen more minutes, I want some more head
Sick of Sprite so I dropped a sixth of Wock’ in a cold red
n#gg#, I’ll kill my sister, uncle, cousin for some old red
If I don’t come the ‘Miris or the purples, I’ma Ksubi jean it
Would’ve hit yo b#tch but she a rat, she need some coochie cleaning
Lil’ bougie b#tch gon’ throw a fit unless the sushi seasoned
SB and RMC, we sh#tting, this the dookie season
Girly stay solid to my n#gg# but the coochie cheating
Told a Wock’ pint, “I love you”, and I truly mean it
Fat n#gg#, I can’t wear Balmain, I’ma Gucci jean it
I see them sideburns growing in, you a coochie eater
You gave her four Percs just to f#ck, you a coochie creeper
Back to them sideburns you got, you a booty eater
Could’ve punched the LV collection but the Gucci cleaner
Our cup is so motherf#cking dark, it can’t be pop
Unc’ spent a thousand yesterday, he took auntie spot
I just bought a black-out, the same one [?] got
Got a sixth sense with the scamming, I can smell juggs
.45 pin him to the wall, this a nail gun
Four hundred dollars off of every twenty, I’m a jail plug
Bought my new b#tch a big bag, the Chanel one
Thanksgiving dinner, granny talking ’bout she smell Runtz
Tron got thirty cards on him now, I think he sell punch
Teachers didn’t like me, if I could, I would’ve failed lunch
b#tch, I’m in the Lamb’, put that old-ass Chevelle up
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Lyrics BabyTron – Dookie Season
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