Ballin Dese Bitches
Lyrics
Hey
Hey, come on man, these bitches is nothing
Man, we ballin' these bitches out, left and right
Every night man, know what I'm sayin'?
You trippin', you trippin'
Like, we be in the 'yo with it, you know what I'm sayin'? (On folks you trippin' man)
Like fuck these bitches, 1 A.M, 2 A.M, 3 A.M
You know we just smokin' za, you know? (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Coolin', smokin' doties off the drank, you know what I'm sayin'?
Just fuckin' these bitches back to back
Toe tag, tag team, however you wanna do it (They got Mooski on the mix)
Bro you trippin' like it's hard to ball these bitches
(Like it's hard to ball these bitches), ayy
Hop in the coupe, drop the top on all these bitches (skrrt), ayy (drop the top)
We used to go to school and get top inna stall from bitches (all y'all bitches)
Then get around your friends act like I don't call y'all bitches, ayy (goofy slut)
All these bitches opps, all these bitches bops (bops)
All these bitches get a man then pretend like they ain't thots (for real)
It's too many Glocks (too many)
But how many shots? (How many?)
That switch for decoration, you ain't tryna go catch no head shots (you ain't tryna catch no body)
I did what you trying to (what you trying to)
Being that nigga for my niggas, out here sliding too (I was out here sliding too)
We made my house the kick it spot, the bitches sliding through (bitches sliding through)
You got that iron, go in my crib, police riding through (police riding through, fuck twelve)
Ayy, back then they wouldn't top me off (wouldn't top me off)
Now they wanna top me off
One in the morning, I was tryna get to the crib, you wouldn't drop me off (drop me off)
Now you wanna drop me off
That's that fan shit (bitch)
Never have I ever been on a 'U' picture, boy I ran shit
And ha, now got all the Glocks (all the Glocks)
We got all the thots (bitch)
Freak lil' thot hoe, look like Mulatto (Mulatto), dancin' on top of the car
We call exotic, za (za)
We got exotic pop (pop)
You would think big folks work with a label, how he got this A&R (A&R)
We got a lot of opps (lot of opps)
We got a lot a Glocks (lot of Glocks)
YouTube lying to y'all for us, y'all know these ain't no props (ain't no props)
I be lying to save her ass, he say he gon' beat her up (he gon' beat her up)
Tell that nigga turn his boss up I already fucked (goofy ass nigga)
Bro you trippin' like it's hard to ball these bitches
(Like it's hard to ball these bitches), ayy
Hop in the coupe, drop the top on all these bitches, (skrrt) ayy
We used to go to school and get top inna stall from bitches (all y'all bitches)
Then get around your friends act like I don't call y'all bitches, ayy (slut)
All these bitches opps, all these bitches bops (bops)
All these bitches get a man then pretend like they ain't thots
It's too many Glocks (too many)
But how many shots? (How many?)
That switch for decoration, you ain't tryna go catch no head shots (you ain't tryna catch no body)
Writer(s): Isaiah Dukes
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Royalty Network
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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