lirik lagu have-a-ball – yn jay
[intro: yn jay]
(yeah, baby, you did this one)
d*mn
i’m finna (yeah, baby, you did this one)
[verse 1: yn jay]
i’m finna have a ball
10 bad hoes, i think i want ’em all
i finna hoop, i think i wanna ball
in a nice neighborhood, i think i wanna jog
b*tch wanna suck my d*ck, don’t forget the b*lls
when i’m done f*ckin’ you, i won’t forget to call
b*tch, i don’t want no babies, i can’t hit you raw
you got your gun on safety, i got mine on, oh sh*t
i’m ’bout to do some sh*t
they ain’t see me comin’ through, i’m in the newest whip
i just pulled up with a redbone, this my newest b*tch
oh, you never smelled this cologne? oh, you like that huh?
boy, you know her p*ssy through and you wifed that huh?
you the type of n*gga get beat up, ain’t gon fight back huh?
n*gga slid down throwin’ bullets, threw ‘еm right back huh
you the type that argue on facеbook, you gon type back “huh”
ahhh sh*t
spot a b*tch from ’round the corner, this b*tch super thick
i just pulled up with lil d, that’s my mud brother
oh, you don’t know yn damu, that’s my blood brother
[verse 2: ysr gramz]
oh, you around for the money, you a blood sucker
i just seen bro make 20, he a muhf*cker
oh, they sent you to a store, you a store runner
if you see me up this b*tch, you better start runnin’
i can’t even bring loski brim, cause he gon start somethin’
i just f*cked for 2 minutes, and she start runnin’
if i scream “[?]”, that mean the cops comin’
you got a gun in your hand, but you ain’t on sh*t
oh, you got a lot of money? you be on hoe sh*t
oh, that glock ain’t yours? that’s your bro sh*t
punch a n*gga dead in his face, for bro ‘nem
i just talked to the plug, he said you owe him
you out here tellin’ people you my cousin, i don’t know him (i don’t know that n*gga)
yeah, i’m actin’ real bad
you got a fake louis vuitton, i got a real bag
i just ate this bad b*tch, she a real snack
this n*gga act like 6ix9ine, he a real rat
let me see you bend that ass over, cause it’s real fat
i’m in atlanta shootin’ dice, with [?]
no you can’t ride in the front, b*tch get in the back
i ain’t ridin’ in your car if i can’t bring my strap
i ain’t gettin’ on your song if you ain’t speakin’ facts
[outro: ysr gramz]
b*tch, ysr sh*t
yeah, b*tch
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