There's only one thing that'll do I'd fly away on this pair of wings with you Cause you might fuck around and find your dreams come true with me So don't act like it's a bad thing to fall in love with me, me It's not a bad thing to fall in love with me,

Oh My God, this shit different Oh My God, Gucci slippers Oh My God, my wrist vicious Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings Think he got a chance with a bitch like me He ain't rich enough, rich enough (No) Calls need to stop he ain't calling 'bout the guap I

Tone that shit down Wop, wop, wop, wop Tell me who can ball like this Y'ain't neva ball like this Tone that shit down (oh why) Weak nigga, ball like this Wop, wop, wop, wop (yeah) Might steal your bitch VVS the wrist (VVS the wrist)

I be balling like I am Derrick Rose Killing my competition like I'm Rogue Luv is rage I'm in the crowd at my shows I just want all of my niggas to ball I just want all of my niggas to see, all the shit that I might not get to see I just want all of my

She's coming around the bend She's holding lightning in both hands She's like rain when she rolls in But that sunshine in her thunder Makes the loneliest heart wonder If the ride is worth the pain Might not be stone clouds inside Oh but don't you worry

I might take a can of paint and go paint the White House OG kush diet, OG kush diet My partna just died, my partna just died Nothin’ else to do but get high, fuck Come to the bank, come through like Brinks Fuck what you think, fuck what you think

The hell raisin' heat of the summer We were livin' every minute of the night Like there might never be another We were runnin' all the caution lights We were learnin' to fly with a little tail gunner If there was somethin' to burn, we were burnin' it

Those beers might as well have been poured out Why are you still showing up and bringing me down? Why do I keep letting you get to me And mess up what that's not what's gonna be? You walk right by crashing my high like I know you will You're like a

(Money and the fame) Fort Collins, I'm sorry, Fort Collins, I'm sorry Cause I been on this road, tryna get high from my low Won't somebody tell me where to go, please cause I don't know I might be crazy, living life like a circus ape that's strapped into

Weekends here, good God almighty, Yeah, yeah, yeah... But we just punched out and its paycheck Friday, Yeah the big boss man, he likes to crack that whip I ain't nothing but a number on his time card slip, I give him forty hours and a piece of my soul,