lirik lagu i ball – short dawg
love show not lie!
rich rockling!
you’re lighting, lighting that rear, it’s a sf
me and the money stay connected like the wifi
i got your women wearing nothing but the thighs highs
give a dope deal, give that b-tch sky high!
step in this thing, turb like the dough nut
b-tch, i don’t roll weed, that’s your job.
talk to ’em rich rocket, you’re a preacher
these b-tches wanna learn you to teach’
rule number one, keep your p-ssy right!
b-tch p-ssy, run your world, what your p-ssy like?
cash can’t stack if your -ss can’t frat
but your rabbit -ss mind, think my -ss ain’t strap!
got a lil queens b-tch, is she teasing the trap?
she’ll have a ménage with you, but your fee is the stack
and i’m breathing in g-ss, and the’ is my cl-ss
you’re f-cking the dirty n-gg-s, probably leave with the rats!
i just leave with the cash, got ’em to rebel
better leave with the bag, i ain’t meaning to brag,
but i got jet-line flying circles around n-gg-
you are square like plat, unaware of the fact
that i run this b-tch and i ain’t getting tired!
(b-tch!) my light skin b-tch, got fire!
my puerto rican b-tch got higher
no accounts, all the money get wired!
hook:
yeah, i ball!
i don’t really know about ya!
every day, top down when i’
i don’t really know about ya!
money break, their hoes on call
i don’t really know about ya!
strap feel, my n-gg-s ain’t trying to ball
i don’t really know about ya!
look, chicken hoes trap make you feel golf
i don’t play golf, but i feel close
i’m too turned up, get some ear plugs
(where you at?)
i’m at the bar sipping syrup by the beer mug
ideal drugs on my wrist, bling
i shine like the’ on the six rings
he bought the hoe a coach, she want the swiss teams
i trip the lean like the verse, i need the sixteen
chirs’ make the chicks bling like a saint lauren
i bet your favorite rapper know that they ain’t hard as me
i’m known to flip chicks, but i’m going first week six
chopper clique-clique, split you up like a pig st-tch.
i wake up every morning trying to get rich
if i don’t make a hit song, i’mma’.
these freshmen, i’mma kill them with the crowd
let them n-gg-s know!
and no, i didn’t end it in the driveway!
hook: (x2)
yeah, i ball!
i don’t really know about ya!
every day, top down when i’
i don’t really know about ya!
money break, their hoes on call
i don’t really know about ya!
strap feel, my n-gg-s ain’t trying to ball
i don’t really know about ya!
lirik lagu lainnya :
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