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lirik lagu two tone – tballer

off
its tballer
(on the set)
big rackays
big packays
whole band in the booth

(chorus)
i’m just tryna cop a new whip, make the f-ckin’ roof gone
and check out my wrist i got the guccis and they two tone
i don’t need a case, b-tch, i don’t got a new phone
and i’m ’bout my bread like a mof-ckin’ crouton
i’m just tryna cop a new whip, make the f-ckin’ roof gone
and check out my wrist i got the guccis and they two tone
i don’t need a case, b-tch, i don’t got a new phone
and i’m ’bout my bread like a mof-ckin’ crouton

(verse 1)
man, yo b-tch on my d-ck, i smell like dolce gabbana
i don’t know what i would do if i ain’t countin’ them dollars
if you talkin’ bout the gang then we might have a problem
i gotta couple blue faces that’s just out of the pocket

that’s just out of the pocket
take off like the migo, but b-tch i ain’t no rocket
i’m more like rocky and i’m c-cky but i’m confident
i’m colder than a hockey rink, can’t smoke if you ain’t got the cheese
i’m movin’ in and out of here
whippin’ and it’s pottle deep
gelato yea we got the tree
they copy, all this mockery
i’m sick of all the f-ckery
get out if you ain’t f-ckin’ me
b-tch don’t waste my time just let me know that you ain’t f-ck with me

i gotta prove a point, b-tch i got a lot of bucks
you f-ckin’ with the boys, then you f-ckin’ with some sm-ts
we don’t play with toys, b-tch we bangin’ on the drums
i’ll be in your b-tch stomach like some mof-ckin’ tums

(pre chorus)
i’m just tryna cop a new whip, make the f-ckin’ roof gone
and check out my wrist i got the guccis and they two tone
i don’t need a case, b-tch, i don’t got a new phone
and i’m ’bout my bread like a mof-ckin’ crouton
yo b-tch fold like a futon, aye
blast off, jimmy nuetron, aye
spread this money, grey poupon, aye
the b-tch wack had to move on, aye

(verse 2)
it’s like everyday is christmas, light up trees year around
baller hot now, he the talk of the town
smokin’ on the pounds and we grew it out the ground
now, lil’ b-tch, im photogenic cause i’m all dripped out

bills got a stripe like a zebra
runnin’ to racks a cheetah
hittin my phone that’s eaters
jordans, you rockin’ beaters
jordans, you rockin ‘didas
caddy, the whip the cleanest
b-tches be on my p-n-s
smokin’ i went to venus

smokin’ i went to mars
we rollin’ and smokin’ bars
and there ain’t no key for the car
ain’t lowkey, we goin hard
i’m smokey we pokin’ bars
you know me, you know we hard
quit actin like livin’ hard
just stay up and play your part
like uh

but now that boy hot tho
cheese in my pants, i can guarantee it’s not yo’s
made it rain, man, you gon’ need a f-ckin’ poncho
good gold chain karats came from morocco

talk sh-t boy, get you folded like a taco
high up in the mountains, i’m in denver with the broncos
diamonds on me chilly, think they came from santiago
’bout to paint a picture b-tches callin’ me pic-sso, uh

why these motherf-ckers hate tho?
please don’t approach if it ain’t about the pesos
cheese in my pants, boy, i’m all about the queso
“baller drop a hit” okay only if you say so

- tballer

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