Ballhog

90 racks for the watch, 30 stacks for the chain
A 50 bar for the medallion, diamonds drippy like the rain
Lower development housing is where I was taught to talk my talk
In the thick of the smudge, the slime, on the tar like crosswalk
A young factor having scrilly, spending blue notes in a drought
Living for the moment, fuck further out
Tomahawk by my kidney, MCM belt
Fucker want beef, I'm make him a patty melt
I'ma see you about something, send my crash dummy
He ain't from Japan, but he like to play kamikaze
Your bitch got sloppy toppy, off of the ginger ale with Jack
She got that hot throat with a built-in thermostat
I'm smoking agricultural and vegetation in the backseat zone and blazin'
In the clean 19 with the dealership plates, insurance and registration
Garnished and decorated with all the toppings and all the fixings
We don't fuck with turf dirt, we only fuck with vixens

I don't jog, fuck the brown police dog
From the Yay, apartment complexes and smog
Get it, count money in the fog
What? Ballhog
I don't jog, fuck the brown police dog
From the Yay, apartment complexes and smog
Get it, count money in the fog
What? Ballhog, ballhog

Hallelujuah! The Lord blessed me with gouda
You can find me on vacation in Barbados or Aruba
Puerto Villarta, Mexico, Bora Bora or Bermuda
Me don't do no snorkel, me don't do no scuba
Under difficult circumstances, I'm having my finances
Used to be the lowest man on the totem pole, used to be the brokest kid on campus
Way ahead of my time, the laughing stock in pre-school
Holes in my pants when ripped jeans wasn't cool
Beat the odds, count my blessings, it's a blessing
Praise God for replying to my message
Suckers don't understand me 'cause they ain't got no understanding
I'm out here feasting, I ain't famine, eating jasmine rice and salmon
Your little gutter chick ain't handling, got you sprung
Need to tell that hoe to douche and brush her tongue
Wandering eyes, wondering why I ain't calling
Come and get your bitch, she out here thottin', reckless eyeballin'...BIATCH!

I don't jog, fuck the brown police dog
From the Yay, apartment complexes and smog
Get it, count money in the fog
What? Ballhog
I don't jog, fuck the brown police dog
From the Yay, apartment complexes and smog
Get it, count money in the fog
What? Ballhog, ballhog
Ballhog, ballhog



Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Tomone Cross, Earl T Stevens Sr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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