BRAIN FART/MASTERPIECE LYRICS – BABYTRON

Read the full Brain Fart/Masterpiece lyrics by BabyTron along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Babytron’s music, you can also explore Half-Ugly and Tron Cena, two other songs by Babytron.

[Part I: Brain Fart]

[Intro]
(S*ittyBoyz, Dog S*it Militia)

[Verse]
I just turned my Sunkist pitch black like a solar eclipse (Long live )
Ayy, b!tch, it’s bite down season, see a play, put my molars in it (Nyah)
Get a soda, spike that ho just like Samoa Joe
Walking Bourbon Street, I’m blowing gumbo with some nola hoes
My white boy rolling off an X in Oba mode
(Damn, Machu, why’d you have to do ’em like that?)
(SBDSM)
Trizzy in my sprizzy, hell nah, this ain’t Coca-Cola, bro
Probably wondering how the kitchen hot, thinking the yola snow
Treat the zotti like some chicken noodle soup and blow a ‘bow
It ain’t East to West, just in the city, ball from coast to coast
Dime, dime, dime, dime, dime, we can go ho for ho
Spot, it’s looking like an army base, we can go pole for pole
Have my steppers step all on your steppers if we toe to toe
You the type to hit the club with no pape’ just to go to go
When you down, they kick you, when you up, they use they hands
When you down, you see through, when you up, you they mans
Sad to say it, that’s just life, though
Watch your step and treat our presence like a tightrope
Yeah, he got a heater, but ain’t hitting shots, he ice cold
Tuh, ayy
281 number playing on my phone like who’s this, Mike Jones?
Spitting game to your b!tch while you with her, you would think I’m Tyrone, I bet I fu*k her
Blowing zagazas and challies, it’s a redeye summer
Nothing you can do to make bro miss, he got a deadeye jumper
Best bet is ducking your head
Man, it’s field goal percentage, still a hundred percent
Ain’t a water gun, but just know, if he up it, you drenched
Cuddy got gardener gloves, he in here touching the fent’
Ho think I care that I found out she out here fu*king again
Punch God, made her hit her knees and come and repent

Why she think we go together when I’m busting her friend?
Better chill out, all that splurging, watch that budget for rent
Now you know you struggling, now you know you hurting
Acting like you up, but your Purple jeans empty so you know you purping
Bossman, no Dlow
Things change nowadays, it ain’t no G-code, what the fu*k the streets on?
Flash make him emote
Pull up cannon like I’m tryna get some B-roll
Blew up like some C-4
I’ve been tryna see bro
I can’t find him out in traffic, think his seats low
(All that motherfu*king hiding)
Open fire on an opp, he leave the street closed
Expensive expertise, I can’t fu*k with cheap hoes
Lil’ brodie robbing s*it, he slicker than some body lotion
Pouring magic, it ain’t Polly juice, lil’ ho, it’s Wocky potion (Ahh)
Every ’round me froze, s*it, I’m feeling like one of them hockey coaches
You’d think I’m Barry Trotz with all this ice around
Swinging for the fence, Barry Bonds, ain’t no striking out
Whole entire gang some hammerheads, y’all just some pike and stout
Bet the 27 turn him to an angel, Michael Trout
Acting like he be out here, but he just stay inside the house
You would think I gave the b!tch a filling, I’m inside her mouth
Caught your mans while it was dark, now he inside the stout
Why the fu*k they call this b!tch a driveway? I’m flying out
I done turned the Ram into a 767
Thumbed a dub in hyperspeed, I did it less than sixty seconds
Gotta leave out with two weapons, got an extra blickie fetish
They think that I’m using cheat codes, got ’em checking Jimmy settings
Pockets full of blue faces, you would think my jeans fainted
Tryna be a billionaire, your lame ass’d rather be famous
Rather get a follower than dollar, huh?
(You need to go reevaluate life, you must be having a brain fart)

[Outro]
(Damn, Machu, why’d you have to do ’em like that?)

[Part II: Masterpiece]

[Intro]
(Enrgy made this one)
(S*ittyBoyz, Dog S*it Militia, long live )

[Verse]
I can only trust a b!tch as far as I can throw her
Nah, this ain’t the start, but this s*it far as hell from over
Played the ones I got, back then, the cards was dealt from Joker
Really out my s*it, it might be kinda hard to tell I’m sober
Still be doing high school s*it, it’s hard to tell he’s older
Your b!tch made my eyes roll, s*it, hey
Your b!tch made my eyes roll, s*it, it’s hard to tell you cuffed her
But the way you blew her phone up, can tell you love her
Damn near got a lame detector, you can smell you, buster
Faking like, “My family really hating”, I can’t help you, brother
Cuddy right on top the stove, but he ain’t melting butter
How the fu*k you been inside my crib but you ain’t met the butler?
Put us up against them boys, I hope you bet ’em under
Fell asleep and thought I lost a dub, but I ain’t check the covers
You know these hoes be poking holes, I had to check the rubbers
Had to tell my hoes I’m with my b!tch, like don’t even text this number
Lil’ brodie tryna score, we finna test his jumper
Still ain’t caught up to the gang, we call him extra mustard
Usually just the dog, but cuddy said he selling fent’ this summer
B!tch, couple Ms what I’ma spend this summer
Love tapping whips off the Quag’, I had to check the bumper
They like, “Where the TRX?” You see this Bentley coming
Maison my heart head to toe, my b!tch Fendi running
Bro-bro said he can’t even name the switch, can catch him semi clutching
Stoney River did the steak, you still at Wendy’s crunching
Rollie plain jane, ain’t wanna get the Presi’ flooded
If I throw the oop to lil’ gang, s*it, I bet he dunk it
Seven-figure club member, fu*k that petty hundred
So much reach around this b!tch, you’d think I’m Wemby’s cousin
You gon’ spend it all tryna keep up, you know that Rembi jumping
You a rookie, sit back, soak it up while all the vets be running
You would think that the spot was Mickey D’s, he got a ten-piece coming
Ask a b!tch like, “Can you tell me how do leechers think?”
Know some robbers fed up with it, tryna breach the brinks
They got liquor, we got mud, huh
They got liquor, we got mud, I told the hoes go drink for drink
Your lil’ b!tches in my phone like, “When we link, instict?”
Why you worried ’bout me? I’m where I need to be
You a role player at the best, boy, I’ma lead the league
We ain’t sipping hit drank, come drop a three and see
It’s so much— up in the kitchen, someone clean the sink
Like, someone grab the bleach
Ho so bougie, talking ’bout, “Can go we have some tea?”
Every time I’m in the booth, this s*it a masterpiece
It used to be the MasterCards, but now I master bars
Used to pull up hooptay, now I’m leaving in the fastest car
Used to be a different story, things changed
Always talking off a fake one, like, use your main page

[Outro]
S*ittyBoyz, Dog S*it Militia, long live