Lyrics

Yeah Yeah, yeah, aye (uh) Yeah, aye (uh) Yeah Yeah, aye Shit been going my way, I got three cars in my driveway, driveway Cost like five hunnid' thousand dollas', I ball all day This is some Gucci, this not Prada, but I'm wet all day (aye) You cannot ball, I took your ball, come get your ball back Boy, I am a real rockstar, that's why I look like this Boy, I am a real trap star, no you cannot cook like this I got niggas shootin' for me, if you die, boy, I'm not sorry I got nine lives like a cat, If he shoot me, I just get back up Bust at him, make him call backup (boom, boom) If they show up, choppa throw up On they body, With these hot ass thunder bullets, feel like fire on your skin I win, I won boy, I'm that nigga, bitch, I'm rich And boy, It's really nothin' for me to come take your bitch I just might slap through me, and my crew might take your shit, aye BAW$KEE on my t-shirt, then got sketchers on my kicks (aye) Shit been going my way, I got three cars in my driveway, driveway Cost like five hunnid' thousand dollas', I ball all day This is some Gucci, this not Prada, but I'm wet all day (aye) You cannot ball, I took your ball, come get your ball back Boy, I am a real rockstar, that's why I look like this Boy, I am a real trap star, no you cannot cook like this Boy, I am a real rockstar, that's why I look like this Boy, I am a real trap star, no you cannot cook like this
Writer(s): Frank Childress, Brandon Javan Wright Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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