Gotta Ball

Yup, bitch, it’s Nasty
Two two ounces and one two liter
Two Styrofoam riding in the two-seater
Ice in my cup, keep it cold, no heater
Me and Lil Debbie, two’s up, hasta la vista
Ice on my neck and wrist, keep me cold-blooded
I ain’t drinking soda unless that bitch real muddy
Actavis and Hi-tech taste so lovely
Throwing rosay equals sipping three hundred
Then we getting money and it’s finna talk
Pull out twenty stacks just to buy the whole mall
I can’t stop now, I’ll be damned if I fall
'Cause it’s money on my mind and, bitch, I gotta ball
Bitch, I gotta ball
Bitch, I gotta ball
Bitch, I gotta ball
'Cause it’s money on my mind, man
Bitch, I gotta ball
Bitch, I gotta ball with your bitch at the mall
If I got a missed call, it wasn’t money involved
If you see me buying Sprite, you know it’s syrup involved
Gotta smoke in slow motion like a turtle would walk (Squirt)
Codeine diva, roll my weed up
Last of the trill, man, the rap game need us
Lil Debbie, last seen in a limousine
I done sip on syrup across the seven seas
Hundred missed calls and I’m still balling
Hundred dollar Sprite, I’ma sip on it
Bitch I gotta ball, don’t sip Qualitest (No)
When you see a real bitch, acknowledge it
Bitch, I gotta ball
Bitch, I gotta ball
Bitch, I gotta ball
'Cause it’s money on my mind, man
Bitch, I gotta ball