Top Songs By Edot Babyy
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Edot Babyy
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Edot Baby
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ransom
Producer
Lyrics
Ransom
Is this Glvck? (Nah, this EK, bitch)
Yeah (Uh-huh, grrah, boom)
Gang-gang-gang, bitch
Boom-boom-boom (Grrah)
Don't run (Gang-gang-gang)
Please let me know how y'all everything dead
And y'all ain't shoot nobody (Uh-huh), for real
I really rap what I did (Facts)
Most of you niggas never caught a hit
And I could've went down for this shit (Uh-huh)
But Skurta was wit' me, that nigga legit
OY-OG (OY-OG)
Whole lotta shots come behind that
Bow, bow, bitch
Gang, gang, gang
Heard the opps tryna get me, clip me
On court, I'ma back out the sitchy
On the block, got caught totin' Brittany
If it's static, then nigga, get wit' me
Get me mad, I start talkin' real shit
We the duo that they never talk 'bout
Edot my brother, I'm takin' that risk
We got these lil' bitches doin' dick
Fuck a bitch, if she high, I'm like TP
I might flock at a Flock 'cause them niggas mixy
I'm like, "Edot, bro, pass me the sitchy"
"Fuck that, EK, we go fifty for fifty"
And we got bitches doin' mad dick
You not a ooter, don't play for the Mavericks
Throw up the set, like, "What's craccin'?"
Or I throw up the O, like, nigga, "What happened?"
Every thot that we fucked call her Bri now (Bri-Bri)
'Cause Bri tryna fuck on the team
If we spin through the Tzz and we see that lil' bitch
We gon' leave that bitch right on the scene
No name droppin' (Grrah)
But I said I'm smokin' on Beans (Fat boy)
Posted on B-Way, had like 3Ks
But, I was servin' the fiends
And boy, don't get caught up in Dyckman
If we don't got the gun then we fightin'
But, we got them beams like laser tag
Better duck when you run into me (Like)
Don't panic, we see the opps, do damage
Couple of gangstas
If I'm wit' Banga, know brodie uppin' the cannon
Bet he gon' vanish (Grrah)
I really rap what I did (What?)
Most of you niggas never caught a hit
And I could've went down for this shit (Uh-Huh)
But Skurta was wit' me, that nigga legit
OY-OG (OY-OG)
Whole lotta shots come behind that (Bow-bow)
Bow, bow, bitch
Gang-gang-gang
Fuck a bitch if she high, I'm like TP
I might flock at a Flock 'cause them niggas mixy
I'm like, "Edot, bro pass me the sitchy"
"Fuck that, EK, we go fifty for fifty"
And we got bitches doin' mad dick
You not a ooter, don't play for the Mavericks
Throw up the set, like, "What's raccin'?"
Or I throw up the O, like nigga, "What happened?" (On gang)
Gang-gang-gang
Grrah-grrah, boom
It's Edot Baby
Writer(s): Elijah Irvin, Chalim Perry, Henry Bryne Fisher
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