Ticket
(Sosa Baby)
These niggas ain't official (nah)
Real nigga ain't in him (hann)
- all in the spine (dope)
Probably why I can't feel 'em
Too much to lose (skrrt)
Probably why I ain't did 'em
Gotta ball out for my dead homies
Probably why I ain't with 'em
Ridin' around in this Fisker
Ten hunnid for this Fisher
Thousand dollars for these Louis' (beep, beep)
These here are official
Ball, ball, ball, foul, give me a whistle
Hoppin' out with that style, these here a ticket (Gucci, Louis, bang!)
Walkin' through the mall, and I'm smellin' like -
Shoppin' in Gucci, they let me pour drink up
This convo, ain't a ticket, then I got's to hangup
'Cause I love that blue cheese, like everybody loves Raymond
Come up in strip club, you f- around get rained up
Go up in my hood, you f- around, get banged on
Loud pipes when I pull off, you can hear it when I swang 'em
I'm in this bitch with a black hoodie, black Gucci's, Trayvon
I parked in a no park and got me a ticket
Told the Lord to excuse me for my sinnin'
Man, I swear these b- out here trippin'
If I was still in school, I'd have knots all in my Dickies
(Let's get it)
These niggas ain't official (nah)
Real nigga ain't in him (hann)
- all in the spine (dope)
Probably why I can't feel 'em (nah)
Too much to lose (skrrt)
Probably why I ain't did 'em (yeah)
Gotta ball out for my dead homies
Probably why I ain't with 'em (yeah)
Ridin' around in this Fisker (skrrt)
Ten hunnid for this Fisher
Thousand dollars for these Louis' (beep, beep)
These here are official
Ball, ball, ball, foul, give me a whistle
Hoppin' out with that style, these here a ticket (Gucci, Louis, bang!)
Free Slick, niggas keep talkin' that G -
Niggas keep talkin' that sweet -
Niggas ain't talkin' that street -
B-, my pockets on deep dish
You don't hustle, you don't eat -
Ride past you like I don't see -
I let it seek me, I don't seek it
These niggas ain't official (nah)
Real nigga ain't in him (hann)
- all in the spine (dope)
Probably why I can't feel 'em (nah)
Too much to lose (skrr)
Probably why I ain't did 'em (yeah)
Gotta ball out for my dead homies
Probably why I ain't with 'em (yeah)
Ridin' around in this Fisker (skrrt)
Ten hunnid for this Fisher
Thousand dollars for these Louis' (beep, beep)
These here are official
Ball, ball, ball, foul, give me a whistle
Hoppin' out with that style, these here a ticket (Gucci, Louis, bang!)
These niggas ain't official (nah)
Real nigga ain't in him (hann)
- all in the spine (dope)
Probably why I can't feel 'em
Too much to lose (skrrt)
Probably why I ain't did 'em
Gotta ball out for my dead homies
Probably why I ain't with 'em
Ridin' around in this Fisker
Ten hunnid for this Fisher
Thousand dollars for these Louis' (beep, beep)
These here are official
Ball, ball, ball, foul, give me a whistle
Hoppin' out with that style, these here a ticket (Gucci, Louis, bang!)
Walkin' through the mall, and I'm smellin' like -
Shoppin' in Gucci, they let me pour drink up
This convo, ain't a ticket, then I got's to hangup
'Cause I love that blue cheese, like everybody loves Raymond
Come up in strip club, you f- around get rained up
Go up in my hood, you f- around, get banged on
Loud pipes when I pull off, you can hear it when I swang 'em
I'm in this bitch with a black hoodie, black Gucci's, Trayvon
I parked in a no park and got me a ticket
Told the Lord to excuse me for my sinnin'
Man, I swear these b- out here trippin'
If I was still in school, I'd have knots all in my Dickies
(Let's get it)
These niggas ain't official (nah)
Real nigga ain't in him (hann)
- all in the spine (dope)
Probably why I can't feel 'em (nah)
Too much to lose (skrrt)
Probably why I ain't did 'em (yeah)
Gotta ball out for my dead homies
Probably why I ain't with 'em (yeah)
Ridin' around in this Fisker (skrrt)
Ten hunnid for this Fisher
Thousand dollars for these Louis' (beep, beep)
These here are official
Ball, ball, ball, foul, give me a whistle
Hoppin' out with that style, these here a ticket (Gucci, Louis, bang!)
Free Slick, niggas keep talkin' that G -
Niggas keep talkin' that sweet -
Niggas ain't talkin' that street -
B-, my pockets on deep dish
You don't hustle, you don't eat -
Ride past you like I don't see -
I let it seek me, I don't seek it
These niggas ain't official (nah)
Real nigga ain't in him (hann)
- all in the spine (dope)
Probably why I can't feel 'em (nah)
Too much to lose (skrr)
Probably why I ain't did 'em (yeah)
Gotta ball out for my dead homies
Probably why I ain't with 'em (yeah)
Ridin' around in this Fisker (skrrt)
Ten hunnid for this Fisher
Thousand dollars for these Louis' (beep, beep)
These here are official
Ball, ball, ball, foul, give me a whistle
Hoppin' out with that style, these here a ticket (Gucci, Louis, bang!)
Credits
Writer(s): Keith Cozart, Dwayne Richardson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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