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RACE TO AN M
Concrete Boys; Camo!
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Lyrics
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I be ballin'
I be ballin'
Mmm
Sixty milligrams, my Amex don't get tired
Bank tellin' my therapist, speakin' to me through the wire
My whole fit came from Paris, your stylist think that's fire
I'm rollin' 'round like a Ferris
I don't sell drugs, I'm a buyer
Black, white, and blue Brabus
Would've thought I played for the Mavericks or the Magic
My dawg is beatin' that block, servin' that fifty, he a savage
I'm pullin' off on the curb, scrapin' the side just like matches
I'm competin' with the creek, who can blow
A fuckin' M the fastest? (I be ballin')
Yeah, yeah
I'm turnin' up my bitch, I got her reachin' all her goals
Late night, she can't believe I let her fuck me in my Rolls
I ain't buyin' her no flowers, but I still give her a rose
I ain't give her no corsage, but I put her wrist on rose
They can't take my flows, better off tryna take my hoes
Yeah, my doors are suicidal, had the mechanic check on those
I'm ridin' around in a Tesla, off a Tesla in that mode
Movin' around with the heat on my waist
Like a nigga don't fuck with the cold
Black diamonds hit the light, shit look like I'm burnin' coal
Yeah, I tried to throw 'em bitches, he got 'round to hoes and sold
Million dollar house, bitch, I can't humble my lil' bowl
I'm huggin' on my cup, that bitch so dark, look like the road
I'm textin' that bitch friend, I'm prayin' to God she don't catch wind
You're so good in your hood, it's been
Two years, nigga, why you ain't win?
She requestin' my location, tryna track my where and whens
This kit look like some NASCAR shit
You couldn't even tell it's a Benz
I'm pourin' so much Wock' inside this pop, can't taste the soda
Cops is pullin' me over, they see the Hellcat ain't sober
I'm scrapin' the rims on the curb
I'm treatin' this shit like Corollas
She suckin' it all with the balls, she treatin' me just like Bogle
He only wipin' his nose when he sick, ain't never been cobra
I'm posted with the mob, my table full of high rollers
I'm turnin' up my bitch, I got her reachin' all her goals
Late night, she can't believe I let her fuck me in my Rolls
I ain't buyin' her no flowers, but I still give her a rose
I ain't give her no corsage, but I put her wrist on rose
They can't take my flows, better off tryna take my hoes
Yeah, my doors are suicidal, had the mechanic check on those
I'm ridin' around in a Tesla, off a Tesla in that mode
Movin' around with the heat on my waist
Like a nigga don't fuck with the cold
I be ballin'
I be ballin'
ย