More songs by Babyface Ray
Description
Producer: Lulrose
Composer: Lulrose
Lyricist: Marcellus Rayvon Register
Lyricist: Gerald Leroy Chauncey Page
Lyrics and translation
Original
New in a local health alert, Shelby County now targeting young people in the opioid crisis. The county taking a stand against children using opioid-laced cough syrup.
The Kick the Cup campaign was unveiled today.
It's designed to address the dangers of drinking and abusing drugs containing codeine.
Organizers say those drinks have been popularized by some rap artists and often goes by street names
Dirty Sprite, Purple Drank, Sizzurp, and Lean.
But officials warn it is highly addictive and can lead to overdose and even death.
Sippin' on some sizzurp. Dip-dippin' in some sizzurp, swoopin' on your hoe like.
She keep sendin' pictures of her pussy, know it's on sight.
I ain't no broke hoe type. I'll put some torch in all your care like you a moped bike.
Blood from Africa, these diamonds shine with no light.
How you supposed to win, you don't expect to throw dice? We can swap it out, this lil' shit for your life.
Glock two, three and then came back with four, five. I'm so disrespectful with this bitch, it go live.
Bitch, our shit is a hit, I did this shit for Oli. I turn up the spot, I feel like
Jeezy '05. Niggas be loose as hell and be the reason you on fire.
Come straight through the back, boy, I don't wait in no line.
When the wolves come outside, you better run and go hide. You know I'm finna get my bag, I'm cutting the line at
Goyard. Face get big as Kid, I'm driving the Lamb' like go-kart.
Sippin' on some sizzurp. Dip-dippin' in some sizzurp, swoopin' on your hoe like.
She keep sendin' pictures of her pussy, know it's on sight. I ain't no broke hoe type.
I'll put some torch in all your care like you a moped bike.
Pour the Tus and Seagram, why the fuck your crosses look?
My young niggas treasures, so fucked up, you so detested. Shawty, admire my necklace, so many beans'll give you freckles.
Put a lil' bitch on my section, just 'cause you bad, don't mean you special.
Niggas keep yellin' help, I feel like Wayne, a nigga, I'm Bel-Air.
This Drac' get you twitchin' like Elvis, pick up a hoe and I fuck her like Melissa.
Really ain't shit you can tell me, rockin' some shit I can't even spell.
Niggas be bitter as hell 'cause I got the sauce that's not for sale.
From drinking alcohol.
So whatever the hell was in my cup, the only reaction I did was got more popular, more successful, did a lot more things that I've ever done, picked up a guitar, learned how to play it, learned how to put on the auto-tunes and stretch my voice, and became number one in the country with everything I've ever dropped. I probably should pick that cup back up.