Ball Heavy

Certified trap nigga
Know the streets cuz I'm in em
Laughing at competition
Smoking vicious block bending
Nigga acting like he up he need Oscar for pretending

Imma heavy weight, scaling every weight in the trap
I'm every state tryna navigate to them racks
I should work at ups the way we flooding with them packs
My bitch texting me wit issues ain't no telling where I'm at
Aint no slide downs if he ain't gang it's a slat
Yo opinion never mattered fuck yo input he a rat
Ain't no second guessing we got turkeys coming gift wrapped
Who got wok I need a tip I need bitches asap

I know real members
I hung wit em & thug wit em
Imma real glitcher come out the bank and I hurt feelings
All blues on me ripping pockets up out my denim
I know everybody say they in the trenches we be in em
Drop the Lo and we can send em
If folks say it's a bad day fuck a rap we get to drilling
I popped out gallery today I do this for the Children
The bitch telling me she just lost her mind I lost the ceiling
This shit no more than business hey

On the Fiserv floor but my shooters on the balcony
Feel like Giannis I'm counting 40 before I go to sleep
Blicky on me I'm in the church hearing the pastor speak
Duffle bags wit dirty money devil after me
We ran up a 100 to replace all of the casualties
Told gang we can come a brick we come a rack a piece
I walk the dog like I'm coming Vick them bitches off the leash
You need a plug just call me thug I got that shit in reach

You better ball heavy
You better ball heavy
First they love you then they start hating
First they love you then they start hating
Better ball heavy (run the money up)
Better ball heavy (run the money up)
First they love you then they start hating
First they love you then they start hating

Imma real life glitcher I went harder in the drought
Yeah I'm in here cooking food but I ain't talking In and Out
Told my bitch she can't clean up I gotta dub in the couch
Book a flight to Melrose I gotta run I'm running out
I can't say I like School but I can add up large amounts
Paid 400 hundred for these jeans but the stick keep poking out
In the foreign riding dirty only take expensive routes
I took a 50 out the
Call BOA cuz they can vouch
Crime Family that's 4L I told lil folks Imma brand it
In the Mil I'm forever with these Bucks shit I ain't Brandon
Out in Gary selling girl I ain't from here I ain't Janet
When you counting up the blues you get a chill while rubber banding
Spot booming call a nigga Chris Breezy how we ran it
Its the mob shoot a nigga in his legs he can't stand it
I could never dunk a ball but with this work a nigga slamming
We could never fall off cuz the phones keep cramming

You better ball heavy
You better ball heavy
First they love you then they start hating
First they love you then they start hating
Better ball heavy
Better ball heavy
First they love you then they start hating
First they love you then they start hating



Credits
Writer(s): Terrance Fisher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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