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Congratulazioni! Sono Lirkit!

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Young Thug

We Ballin'

 

We Ballin'

(album: I Came From Nothing - 2011)


[Young Thug & Joc Lowe:]
I'm balling, we're balling, she balling, and we're balling
And they're fouling, and they're calling, and we're styling 'cause we're balling
We're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling
We're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling

[Young Thug:]
Uh-um, I'm not a rapper
But you might catch us flying out to Vegas, to cop a couple acres
But we ain't copping no waiter 'cause shit I'm the waiter
Why? 'Cause she make me wait for her
Now I adore her and I love it
I tried [?] at the top but cash you're still above it
And if you think you can fold this cash, you may pack up and leave
And I'm through talking, so I'mma let the song bleed
Like yeah, like yeah, like yeah
And that felt like I was on the throne
And I took me a shot of Patron
And I called that ho phone and told her get back come
But if she don't

[Young Thug & Joc Lowe:]
I'm balling, we're balling, she balling, and we're balling
And they're fouling, and they're calling, and we're styling 'cause we're balling
We're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling
We're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling (Let's go)

[Young Thug:]
She say she fucking with me
So you know I'm fucking with her back
Like the tag on her shirt but that's crazy
But I don't like the tags on my shirt, yeah
And I be playing around with her like a kidder
But I ain't need to kid her, but I fuck with the rock crew
And I'm pro so I had to pro kid her, yeah
Now all the boys dig her
And she like, "Thug are you kid?"
And I was like nah, this a mink, not a kid
Ain't draw on your car, that's a ribbon
And yeah, I be really freestyling, this wasn't written

[Young Thug & Joc Lowe:]
I'm balling, we're balling, she balling, and we're balling
And they're fouling, and they're calling, and we're styling 'cause we're balling
We're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling
We're balling, we're balling, we're balling, we're balling

[Joc Lowe:]
I'm rolling up them ball bats
2 grams and a Giant, what you call that?
This shit taste like some fresh fruit
Lean back and blow it out the roof
Vanilla seats in the coupe
Windows tinted and it's bulletproof
Call them bitches and they're coming through
Don't miss your blessing baby, achu
YSL on my shoes
My bitch name Jimmy Choo
Man I swear my religion true
I'm [?] tested like I got the flu
Any bitches say that I'm the truth
Me and Thug with them foreigns, back to back with the pistols drew

Fatto

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