Headless Horseman - BabyTron

(If you ain't got a beat from Bam, you don't trap enough)

(Helluva made this beat, baby)

Shit, I'm tryna land, I gotta find a helicopter pad

All these baby bottles, probably thinkin', "Where the toddlers at?"

Why the fuck this bitch think she a dime with her copper ass?

DSM lieutenant, send a blitz, they hit back, "Roger that"

Diamonds dancin', ain't no light trick, mirage, or illusion

A kit without a whip or a crib, like, shit, what's more confusing?

Ask for mountain of some cocaina, titi snore right through it

Let me know if it's really some beef, gon' put my fork right through it

Treatin' the drank like a plank of wood, yeah, I'ma four-by-two it

Wrestlin' with my sleep, "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan

Earlier than breakfast, I'll knock the jam off his muffin

It's sixteen of y'all with one pint, y'all can't all sip somethin'

Think we even, dog the Headless Horseman, he done lost his pumpkin

Telegrammin' with the scamliy, wake up, watch the sauce get flooded

Money conversatin', shut the fuck up 'less you talkin' hundreds

He ain't hit a shot or scored forever, must've lost the bucket

Brodie got new F&N, he clutchin' like the game endin' (Three, two—)

Your mans ballin' up his fist up in Heaven since you put him on that fake pendant

Heard your tape and you ain't say shit like a blank message

First place vibes, gold medal, I can't take second

Haha, yeah, just got a new crib built, the only time I ever been window shoppin'

Cuddy get up close with stick and then he whisper, "Flip your pockets"

Wear a helmet, stop, drop, and roll, or we gon' hit your noggin

How the fuck you middlemannin' wrong? Ain't even get no profit

Chillin' like a villain, lips zipped, ain't really big on gossip

Four tweak tools in it, boy, my geek kit on toxic

Pull up hooded up with white sticks on, look like the Grand Wizard

Wood Russian Drakey, shot that bitch and gave my hands splinters (Brrt)

Chopper with the zoom, I'm on the Seven hittin' opps on Grand River

Think he fuckin' with the gang, the pussy boy delusional

Wake up, get fly, get high, the usual (Yeah)

Mushu in the booth, bitch, I'm a fire spitter

Still catchin' the bus to go to work, boy, I'm a tire spinner

Fiend text me, "Virgil," 'cause she snort coke

Leave your bitch 'round me, gon' leave her with a sore throat

Tried to battle with the G.O.A.T., but look, boy, your sword broke

Stop talkin' to me, bitch, your crib cost my wardrobe