BEACH BALL (feat. BIA)

Cartier frames with the Gucci flip-flops (Sho')
Blowin' money fast, man, I'ma be Rick Ross (Hitmaka)

Uh, tell these - to kick rocks
B- ride the boat like it's a seesaw
Check your bags and your -, girl, 'fore you depart
Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
Dolce & Gabbana, spoil him in Neiman Marcus (whoa)

B-, pull the top down, why you keep coughin'? (Brrt)
Put her in the ocean, bet she suck a beach ball (ball)
- Moving up and down, seesaw (saw)
Give me backshots, now it's back to DR (yup)
Fly you out to PR, can't put you in no Dior

Look into my eyes, you could tell I want a D-boy
Poppin' wheelies on that -, he thinkin' I'm from B-more (skrrt)
We should've been friends but I know you wanna be more (hey)
Touched my first M, - know I gotta see more (sheesh)
Seen that - in my ends and you know I had to detour
Flew in first class just to sit up by the seashore
You can't - me in no G4

Cartier frames with the Gucci flip flops (Bust)
Blowin' money fast, man, I'ma be Rick Ross (BIA, BIA)

Look, see, I inflated the plot
Ever since the day of - sales, I upgraded the block, - (ho)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Louis and that Gucci make her bug and Birk'ed often (ho)
Drag me to a dressing room and give me top until she coughin'
Waterfallin', - on these beach balls (whoa)
And all these - walkin' 'round me, talkin' 'bout, "I miss ya" (saw)

Never kiss 'em, but I always hit 'em back to DR (Yup)
Shorty, yes, I see ya, who the - you thinkin' we are? (Gee)
Think you 'bout to come up? See, them thoughts, you better ignore
F- you think you're foolin' tryna come off like a sweetheart?
Think we more than homies? You's a motherf- (hey)
F- these records up in ways you've never seen it before them (gee)
Bustin' everybody - on records when I record 'em (gee)
Light shinin', - lookin' at me like, "Is he God?" (Hey)
Make sure you end your - when we start

Cartier frames with the Gucci flip-flops (sho')
Blowin' money fast, man, I'ma be Rick Ross (Ross)

Uh, tell these - to kick rocks (yeah)
B- ride the boat like it's a seesaw (yup)
Check your bags and your -, girl, 'fore you depart (ho)
Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
Louis and that Gucci make her bug and Bir'ked often (ho)
And drag me to a dressing room and give me - until she coughing (cough)
Water falling, - on these beach balls
And all these - walking 'round me talking about, "I miss ya" (sho')
Give me backshots, now it's back to DR



Credits
Writer(s): Edgar Ferrera, Tyshane Thompson, Christian Ward, Trevor Smith, Jordan Holt-may, Christopher Dotson, Bianca Landrau
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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