chris paul

Chris Paul, hey

Bitch, you know I'm ballin', why you keep on callin' me? (Why you call?)
All this money on me look like I just hit the lottery (hit the lotto)
I know that she like me and I think she want to swallow me
In the mall, bitch, I go Chris Paul (Chris Paul)
I been front line, shawty, yes, I'm ridin' with my dogs (with my dogs)
She like to drip like me so lil' one what I call her (what I call her)
Put that shit on, I'ma take it off, shawty (take it off)
Patek on them hoes, huh, look for all of 'em (all of 'em)

All black fashion
My bitch drippin' just like a witch, black magic
Chrome Hearts all through my crib, bitch, I'm havin' this (lil' bitch I-)
Yes, you already know that I'm geeked, why you askin' me? (Why you askin' me?)

I been off the porch, lil' bitch, I'm clutchin' on my .40
I ain't have no silver spoon, got it up out the streets, I forked it
She just tryna get some money out of me, unfortunately (unfortunately)
'Cause I ain't payin' for no lil' bitch that ain't even worth shit (yah)
(Killa, ay)
(Killa, heh)

Hey, bitch, you know I'm ballin', (ballin') why you keep on callin' me? (Why you callin' me?)
All this money on me look like I just hit the lottery (I hit the lotto)
I know that she like me and I think she want to swallow me
In the mall, bitch, I go Chris Paul (Chris Paul)
I been front line, shawty, yes, I'm ridin' with my dogs (with my dogs)
She like to drip like me so lil' one what I call her (what I call her)
Put that shit on, I'ma take it off, shawty
Patek on them hoes, huh, look for all of 'em

Killa, she a lady killa
Yeah, yeah, for real-a (yeah, for real)
I'm the look killa with the swag, I be drillin' (killa, killa)
She a lady killa with the swag, she be spillin'
All black fur on my jacket, chinchilla

Yeah, Tom Ford, Paul McCartney, and she goin' Stella
Paparazzi pop my shit, lil' baby, I look stellar
Your paparazzi poppin', bitch, I heard, yeah, you look stellar
If looks could kill, then it's first degree murder

They said that real niggas died, well, we resurgin'
Niggas talkin' so much shit, I know they teeth dirty (teeth dirty)
I been walkin' so much shit, lil' bitch, my feet hurtin'
Niggas movin' kinda weird, it's makin' me nervous

I ain't never runnin' out of paper, bitch, I keep splurgin'
I ain't never worried 'bout a hater, we gon' keep on hurtin'
Live with all this flexin', countin' all this money, bitch, I'm never stressin'
I been countin' hunnids (huh, huh)
(Happy, happy)
(Killa)

Hey, bitch, you know I'm ballin', why you keep on callin' me? (Why you callin' me?)
All this money on me look like I just hit the lottery
I know that she like me and I think she wanna swallow me
In the mall, bitch, I go Chris Paul (Chris Paul)
I been front line, shawty, yes, I'm ridin' with my dogs (ah-ah)
She like to drip like me so lil' one what I call her (what I call her)
Put that shit on and take it off, shawty (take it off)
Patek on them hoes, huh, look for all of 'em (fuck)

Fuck 'em
Fuck a nigga talkin' bout?
Look killa-killa
Yeah, lil' top
Boss



Credits
Writer(s): Kole S. Ficthorn, Elijah Y. Terry, Kerr Corey Emmanuel Ben Job, Bobby Wardell Sandimanie Iii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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