Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ball, artist - Michael Christmas. Album song Role Model, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 21.06.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Fool's Gold
Song language: English
Ball |
| As high as a striped bird, ballin' |
| Fuck the Lakers! |
| Except Lonzo, don’t leave that out |
| Free LiAngelo, my nigga ain’t do shit |
| Ay, my nigga Tee Martin |
| Brandon Ingram is cool, too |
| Ball, get a crib that’s high as a scraper |
| Ball like a Laker. |
| Fuck the Lakers |
| Ball like LaVar, I’m 'bout my paper |
| Bought my mom a crib where she got no neighbors |
| Ain’t it slow for you hoe niggas when I ball |
| I told you I would ball, nigga, didn’t I ball? |
| And I might not see you later |
| And hear my prayer |
| God, let me ball |
| Ball please, pass me the ball, please |
| So I can go off-key, spin move, off-three |
| If that shit go in, newspapers all me |
| Fat boy the maker, not yet but he stay hood |
| Nerdy as hell, I been layin' off the squares |
| Can’t you tell? |
| Feel like I need a chip |
| Finally not bitin' my nails, I’m in the air like Nimbus |
| Hercules, Mount Olympus, Hades plottin' on me since I was a baby |
| He a big bitch (bitch, bitch) |
| Now what’s my favorite word? |
| M-O-N-E-Y till I d-ie |
| And if you tr-y, I press the rewind |
| Then press the hitstick, you hit the sideline, Bobby Bushay to the bullshit |
| Martyr is better, two braids, gold chain and Nautica sweater |
| I’m lookin' like I’m Uncle Mike, computer ballin awkward type |
| And you can spark the blunt as soon as I get off the flight |
| Ball, get a crib that’s high as a scraper |
| Ball like a Laker. |
| Fuck the Lakers |
| Ball like LaVar, I’m 'bout my paper |
| Bought my mom a crib where she got no neighbors |
| Ain’t it slow for you hoe niggas when I ball |
| I told you I would ball, nigga, didn’t I ball? |
| And I might not see you later |
| And hear my prayer |
| God, let me ball |
| Ball, please, that’s all I need |
| Okay, for real, for real |
| I need to chill and kill it back-to-back like Drizzy Mill |
| With Miley Cyrus dissin' rap and twerkin' ass like Hank Hill |
| And then I’m s’posed to act like I can take it as a joke |
| Be hearin' sly shit from the nervous white folks |
| Don’t trip, I like those that don’t trip about my skin, or my lips, or my gold |
| 'Cause when ET phone home, he call me like «hold on» |
| I came back to pick my mans up, plan to jump another planet |
| God let me ball, God let me Andre the Giant |
| Chokeslam the rap game, I’m so damn defiant |
| 'Cause I’m gettin' high and I’m not bein' violent (swish) |
| Whatever, man (bitch) |
| I gotta get my shit together man |
| Predict the rain like the weatherman |
| Predict them days gettin' better, man (nah, we got this) |
| God let me ball, God let me ball |
| Ball, get a crib that’s high as a scraper |
| Ball like a Laker, fuck the Lakers |
| Ball like LaVar, I’m 'bout my paper |
| Bought my mom a crib where she got no neighbors |
| Ain’t it slow for you hoe niggas when I ball |
| I told you I would ball, nigga, didn’t I ball? |
| And I might not see you later |
| And hear my prayer |
| God, let me ball |