BLACKBALL (feat. CB Yess)

Folk in my face I'm a superstar
Niggas hang around cuz of who I are
Get a lot of love cuz of what I got
Say they happy for me but they really not
Sell a lot of records and I roll a Benz
All up in the spot now I'm losing friends
All I wanna do is give the world my heart
Record label try to make me compromise my art

They wanna black ball a nigga
But bitches love me wanna catcall a nigga
I smoke an eighth like a black ball nigga
Get off my, get off my black balls nigga
Aye
They wanna black ball a nigga
But bitches love me wanna catcall a nigga
I keep a tec like a bad call nigga
Get off my, get off my black balls nigga
Aye

Fuck is poppin, all up in my duffle
Niggas talking shit. Shit be sounding muffled
That shit be seven fold but a nigga never buckle
I'm laced with game to change the game, aye
Fuck is going down yo I'm back up in this bitch, aye
Run it Chris Brown like it's track up in this bitch, aye
Real shit mixed up with some fuck how you feeel shit
Break a bitch down like a fraction in this bitch, aye
(Gimme the loot! Gimme the loot!)
Aye bitch I'm in pursuit I never lag
Chase a bag like I'm out here playing tag
Ain't shit funny but a nigga Jim Carrey
The boy who lived so a nigga been Harry
Fuck an Uncle Tom yo a nigga been Jerry
See I'm all about the C.R.E.A.M. like a nigga Ben n Jerry
They stay fucking with the browns and the blacks man
I ain't fucking with you clowns like I'm Batman

They wanna black ball a nigga
But bitches love me wanna catcall a nigga
I smoke an eighth like a black ball nigga
Get off my, get off my black balls nigga
Aye
They wanna black ball a nigga
But bitches love me wanna catcall a nigga
I keep a tec like a bad call nigga
Get off my, get off my black balls nigga
Aye

Who you know that got the booth and the block on lock and rock a flock of bad bitches cuz they jock it?
(Who you know)
Who you know that got the cops on patrol at the spot looking for us like it's hot cuz they jock it?
(Yeah)
I ain't do no wrong officer, it's been so long since I had to hit your phone like
Damn where you at bitch
I was at my home officer on the phone with my lady friend in Rome like
Damn were you at bitch
I can't save face with you
I can't race with you
You wonder why we don't share the same space with you
Same place, different time zone
Bitch, the rhyme zone is mind blown
I keep the wine grown ripe like Mike in Red Black and white
I'm ice cold looking through a glass ceiling with a colored blind fold and my eyes closed
To all that bullshit they talkin'
All that nonsense don't complement the mood that I'm rockin'
They trying to keep the lights low
They way I'm moving now it's looking like a dice roll
(that's some shit I can't expect)
I'm just trying to manifest shit in my soul, shit that I compose.
Greedy hoes acting like they can't invest

They wanna black ball a nigga
But bitches love me wanna catcall a nigga
I smoke an eighth like a black ball nigga
Get off my, get off my black balls nigga
Aye
They wanna black ball a nigga
But bitches love me wanna catcall a nigga
I keep a tec like a bad call nigga
Get off my, get off my black balls nigga
Aye



Credits
Writer(s): Caleb Bonds
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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