I'm so bossy, bitch, get off me It's a different jingle when you hear these car keys Your SL's missing an S, nigga Your plane's missing a chef The common thing 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 King Push, kingpin, overlord Coast Guard come a hundred goin' overboard 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 Givenchy fittin' like it's gym clothes We really gymstars, I'm like D. Rose No D-league, I'm like these clothes '88 Jordan, leaping from the free throw
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 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
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards Can't a bitch live and say I bought her Michael Kors? 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 on up your plates, nigga? I might sell a brick on my birthday Thirty-six years of doing dirt like it's Earth Day, God