BEACH BALL (feat. BIA)

Cartier frames with the Gucci flip flops (Sho')

Blowin' money fast, man, I must be Rick Ross

Hitmaka

Uh, tell these hoes to kick rocks

Bitch ride the boat like it's a seesaw

Check your bags and your pussy, girl, 'fore you depart

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Dolce & Gabanna, spoil him in Neiman Marcus

Bitch pull the top down, why you keep coughin'?

Put her in the ocean, bet she suck a beach ball

Hoes movin' up and down, seesaw

Give me backshots, now it's back to DR

Fly you out to PR, can't put you in no Dior

Look into my eyes, you could tell I want a D-boy

Poppin' wheelies on the dick, he thinkin' I'm from B-More

We should've been friends, but I know you wanna be more

Touched my first M, **** know I gotta see more

Seen that **** in my ends and you know I had to detour

Flew in first class just to sit up by the seashore

You can't fuck me in no G4

Cartier frames with the Gucci flip flops

Bust

Blowin' money fast, man, I must be Rick Ross

BIA, BIA

Look, see, I inflated the plot

Ever since the day of crack sales, I upgraded the block, ****

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Louis and that Gucci make her bug and Birk'ed often

Drag me to a dressing room and give me top until she coughin'

Waterfallin', suckin' on these beach balls

And all these bitches walkin' 'round me, talkin' 'bout, "I miss ya"

Never kiss 'em, but I always hit 'em back to DR

Shorty, yes, I see ya, who the fuck you thinkin' we are?

Think you 'bout to come up? See, them thoughts, you better ignore

Fuck you think you're foolin' tryna come off like a sweetheart?

Think we more than homies? You's a motherfuckin'—

Fuck these records up in ways you've never seen it before them

Bustin' everybody ass on records when I record 'em

Light shinin', **** lookin' at me like, "Is he God?"

Make sure you end your shit when we start

Cartier frames with the Gucci flip flops (Sho')

Blowin' money fast, man, I must be Rick Ross (Ross)

Uh, tell these hoes to kick rocks

Bitch ride the boat like it's a seesaw

Check your bags and your pussy, girl, 'fore you depart

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Louis and that Gucci make her bug and Birk'ed often

Drag me to a dressing room and give me top until she coughin'

Waterfallin', suckin' on these beach balls

And all these bitches walkin' 'round me, talkin' 'bout, "I miss ya"

Give me backshots, now it's back to DR