feat. Sez Batters & Bruce Meanz
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Deuce on the boards
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Congrats to my nigga DJ Richey
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You know what?
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We ball, we ball
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It's 2014, let's get this shit started right
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We ball, L7
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'Cause we ball
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Flow clean, bring a mop
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Give them bars, it never stops
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Got the fans getting hot
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I hold the reins, they just want something to drop
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I got the lines by the lot
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Pull them up, pick a spot
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I got my dogs, we in the drop
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They trying to roofie some bitches remove the top
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They dig the smell, that's the pot
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We roll it up on the spot
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Now we chilling on the block
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Watching my niggas make papers cutting the rocks
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That's just the game, play it or not
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But if you play it, get a Glock
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Niggas came from getting popped
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When you in the hood trying to ball, you take the shot
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'Cause nigga, we
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We ball, busting shots
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I'm 'bout to kill it, look for the sheets
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I'm on the building, look at me leap
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These niggas rapping put me to sleep
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We put EP's together and see 'em weep
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I'm watching planes lay on the lawn
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Trying to explain, we ain't on farms
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I had a chain, a little charm
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I had some game but baby, I came to ball, seen it all
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In a truck, zip it up
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Ten of us kicking up, windows tinted up
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Finna bust like two bitches in A cups and they titties is big as fuck
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And they coming to sit with us and live it up
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And we ball hard, call guard, all star
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Weekend, sleeping in a rented parked car, caught
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A couple broads leaving out a parking lot stall
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They said, "What is y'all thinking?"
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"We just cheap, and we is creeping, but come kick it, you'll be seeing"
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We ball, all day
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Answer bets, call plays
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Trophy case in the hallway
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Tell me what else these niggas is gonna say
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When we ball
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When we ball
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Tell me what else these niggas is gonna say, is gonna say
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When we ball
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I ain't rapping about nothing, I'm just going in
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I'm like a scarecrow with no soul within him
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An old boy but I ain't Korean
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And I'm not that sick with all these angels
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Origin, warrior, Victorian
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The Death Star, I conquer with a squad of men
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Net worth, shit that you can't comprehend
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I set fire to homes, arsonist
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Caution rappers, killing you is automatic
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Scar your back if you try to run with a fucking axe and
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Love them back, haters got me up and mad
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Kick you like a bum around some cash, fuck a punching bag
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Blunted after shows, getting numbers from
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Dime pieces, I be fronting like I don't like E
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Drunk despite how I'm feeling in the Bentley
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Chilling, still contemplating crimes while I'm on the pill and
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It don't stop, man, I keep it, roll pot
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So hot, my skin color, I forgot
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I sit here in the whole lot
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Bruce got the ends to shake the whole block
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Got them coming back like a dope spot, smoke out
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Yeah, and we don't care
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Put that fat bitch in the air, yeah
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We Ball
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XV |