Bowling Ball Return Machine: Return to Ball Tray 4

I act a fool when it come to you, baby
Baby bring out the tool Imma let it loose, baby
Tryna rob you get smoked
For the ganja, I choke
Murder she wrote
Put his name on a shirt
I’m still lookin like money
They know I stay fresh to death
So many bags when I walk out to the mall
I might just need some help
Staring at your body
Looking at your body
Baby you the hottest
Baby girl you got it
(We are the future)
I’m about to be straight up on you baby
These bitches just be hating
But they don’t have jewel baby
Keep designer on you
Versace, Jimmy Chu
Christian Lou be the shoe
These bitches can’t fuck with you (nope)
Jugging a jug with my nigga
Car fifity bands I was barely awaiting
I called my bitch told her «I'm on the way»
Look up to the top told her «I'm on my way»
We finna fuck up some commas today
We finna fuck up some (shh)
Listen to what my nigga Fetty Wap got to say
I act a fool when it come to you, baby
Aye bring out the tool Imma let it loose, baby
Tryna rob get smoked
For the ganja, I choke
Murder she wrote
Put his name on a shirt
I act a foot
Only for you
Buy chanel bag and shoes
Yeah, buy you a coupe
Baby, Imma keep it true
A lot of bitches on me, but they ain’t you, baby
You know how I do, baby
Welcome to the zoo, baby
I want you to my self
Know nothing, not even my crew, baby
Tell nobody else, you know how we do, baby
You the one that I want
Girl, you’re perfect
And every time I come 'round, it’s perfect
And if that nigga act up
He can get it
Tell him «Get his racks up, his pockets skinny»
My money hitting front flips
I get plenty
If I’m a baby
I’ll hit him with the semi
I act a fool when it come to you, baby
Baby, I’m a zoo, Imma let it loose, baby
Tryna rob get smoked
For the ganja, I choke
Murder she wrote
Put his name on a shirt