Way I'm Ballin

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Birdman

Bryan Williams (born February 15, 1969), better known by his stage name Birdman or Baby, is an American rapper, businessman, and record producer. more »

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(Gangsta Grillz, you bastards)

Uh, I got shotguns under my staircase
Rob yo' ho-ass bare face
Been had this bitch on lock, I'm 'bout to get this bitch a cellmate
All my life I been this cold
All my nights I spend with hoes
I keep change on me now
'Cause this shit's startin' to take a toll
I just flew two hoes in, oh how time flies, clip it's wings
Make you spit that safe combination, out like Listerine
And even though I'm not an artist this is where I draw the line
We don't feel none of you niggas
Y'all some fuckin porcupines
I still got residue all on my dinner plates
Real niggas in my inner circle
None of my checks come late, I ain't havin' that, I give 'em curfews
Dressed up like a old lady, Uzi under my church dress
Surprise yo' ass like a baby, takin' his first steps
I'm too good for just any bad bitch
Smoke like I've been kissin' dragons
That milk carton show her missin' panties
That pussy felt like a hidden valley
Thank God that I'm so gifted
I wouldn't return a single gift
But all good things must come to an end
Like this blunt burnin' my fingertips
Lil' Tune

This ain't what you want
Put that gun to yo' ho head
Make her tell me what you don't
Got some moon rocks in my pockets, that's a pocket full of stones
F*ck with me 'cause I f*ck around and got that shit from Neil Armstrong, oh
Neil Armstrong, oh, Neil Armstrong
F*ck with me 'cause I f*ck around and got that shit from Neil Armstrong
Got some moon rocks in my pockets, that's a pocket full of stones
F*ck with me 'cause I f*ck around and got that shit from Neil Armstrong, woah

Stripper pole on the yacht
Stripper pole in my spot
I got yo' girl in my condo
Bitch, I'm ballin' like Rondo
Flexin', ranches up in Texas
I know it's a blessin' but I don't know what's a recession
If we talkin Miu Miu's, Jimmy Choos and Giuseppe she got it
I star 6-7, my flights I fly private (woo)
I'm a walkin' hedge fund
I copped a 62 for leg room
This bitch text sayin' her lights off
I bought her a new crib, it's a tax write-off

Like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas
Don't like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas (forever)
Don't like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas (always)
Don't like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas
Step up in this kitchen
Just step back take a look at me
Listen, that Ferrari unreleased
Stop bein' so defensive, I'm makin' good decisions
That's the reason why we winnin'
We flyin', we finished (yeah, yeah)

Rich Gang, we drop feathers to ball
Rich Gang, ball 'til you fall
We hit the block dippin' 'cause the block hot
Record sales, ship it from the Hard Knox
Live it like we live it twice
Ballin' with them bright lights
Bad bitches stand tall
Bad bitches want 'em all
Hella choppas on the surface
Mansion on the beach, nigga that's the purpose
Blow it 'cause the swag is perfect
First class flights, nigga we done murked 'em (blatt)

Like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas
Don't like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas (forever)
Don't like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas (always)
Don't like the way I'm ballin' on these niggas
Step up in this kitchen
Just step back take a look at me
Listen, that Ferrari unreleased
Stop bein' so defensive, I'm makin' good decisions

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