Ballin (feat. Kevin Gates)

I'm ballin, ballin, ballin, bitch

Don't know what else to call this shit

All these gualas I brought with me

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

Ballin, ballin, ballin, bitch

Don't know what else to call this shit

All these gualas I brought with me

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I'm ballin, ballin, ballin, ballin

Fuck around, spend all this shit

I started out fucked up, finally got my weight up

Still tryna figure out what the fuck you hatin' for?

When I come around, if feel like just an appraisal

Independent **** gettin' it in, just like the majors

Thumbing through that check feel like the **** turnin pages

And we was cool and ain't no more, you done us both a favor

'80s baby grew up wantin' a pistol and a pager

Got a free quarter ounce, I bet a hunnid on the Lakers

I should say, against 'em, you know I'm ridin with the heat

At the corner store in my box Chevy

Box of rubbers, box of Swisher Sweets

Still got a bitch, they gotta bitch that'll get your bitch to leave

Switch up freaks like I swap my wheels

This shit ain't really shit to me

I'm ballin, ballin, ballin, bitch

Don't know what else to call this shit

All these gualas I brought with me

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

Ballin, ballin, ballin, bitch

Don't know what else to call this shit

All these gualas I brought with me

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I'm ballin, ballin, ballin, ballin

Fuck around, spend all this shit

Screeching, no reason, saved by the bell

This bitch to the right, pretty face, talk white

With a smile like Lisa

Big booty diva

Broke a brick down, need a band of zap

And three hunnid for the O's of reefer

Twenty-five bags of the OG Kush

And the Granddaddy Purp come weekly

Xans and tabs in air, no slab

But thank God for my people

On the road, doin' show after show after show

And I still eat good, all peaches

Clunkin, gold 'em, squeakin

If the streets ain't got no leanin'

Say they want like nine fifty

For the seal, I say I need it

Took time, these crooks flyin'

Had bad karma, I shook mine

Jab good, slip excellent

Uppercuts, my hook's fine

Refrigeration, illustration

Ice on, got **** hatin'

Foreign whip, foreign bitch

What that is, immigration

Overcooked dope is cocaine

If it cook too long, then they may complain

Dope game, both lays, won't save no names

Don't make proclaims, won't make no change

Out the ghetto with this work, that's why I'm ballin, I'm ballin

If you got a problem wit it, I ain't sorry, I ain't sorry

I'm ballin, ballin, ballin, bitch

Don't know what else to call this shit

All these gualas I brought with me

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

Ballin, ballin, ballin, bitch

Don't know what else to call this shit

All these gualas I brought with me

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I fuck around, spend all this shit

I'm ballin, ballin, ballin, ballin

Fuck around, spend all this shit