(
Yeah
)
How you feelin’?
(
Fine
)
You feel alright?
I’m so bossy, bitch, get off me (
Yeah
)
It’s a different jingle when you hear these car keys (
Y’all feel like danc—
)
Your SL’s missin’ an S, nigga (
Y’all feel like danc—
)
Your plane’s missin’ a chef
The common theme, see, they both got wings
If you fly, do it to death
It’s only one God, and it’s only one crown
So it’s only one king that can stand on this mound (
Yeah
)
King Push, kingpin, overlord
Coast Guard come, a hundred goin’ overboard (
Yeah
)
I got money with the best of ’em
Go blow-for-blow with any Mexican
Don’t let your side bitches settle in
Might have to headbutt your Evelyn
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
Hard to get a handle on this double-edged sword
Whether rappin’ or I’m rappin’ to a whore
Might reach back and relapse to wrappin’ up this raw (
Y’all feel like danc—
)
Givenchy fittin’ like it’s gym clothes
We really gym stars, I’m like D. Rose
No D-League, I’m like this close
’88 Jordan, leapin’ from the free-throw (
Yeah
)
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
Motherfuckers can’t rhyme no more, ’bout crime no more
Mix drug and show money, “Biggs” Burke on tour (
Yeah
)
Twenty-five bricks, move work like chore
Hit Delaware twice, needed twenty-five more
I see flaw, cracks in your diamond
CB4 when you rhyme, Simple Simon
Come and meet the pieman, a must that I flaunt it
The legend grows legs when it comes back to haunt us
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards (
Yeah
)
Can’t a bitch livin’ say I bought her Michael Kors (
Yeah
)
Every car driven was decided by the horse
Keep the sticker in the window case you wonder what it cost
How could you relate when you ain’t never been great
And rely on rap money to keep food up on your plates, nigga?
I might sell a brick on my birthday
Thirty-six years of doin’ dirt like it’s Earth Day— God!
(Y’all feel like danc—)
(Y’all feel like danc—)
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
(Y’all feel like danc—)
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