Ballers

[Intro: Shawnna]

Yo

Yo, yup, yo, yup

Shawnna, yup, ay

[Shawnna]

Shawnna got a 'llac, sittin' on tre

Shawnna don't need no nigga I'm paid

Shawnna got stacks, Shawnna got grip

Shawnna got dap so you better not slip

I'm posted on the block, my girls take control

This cafe Patron got me sippin real slow

I'm lookin like a star, ice on my neck

Ice on my wrist, ice on my chest

You might want to flirt, but I ain't on that

I'm way fucked up, I'm way to' back

And I don't give a fuck, I got it like that

They took a nigga deuce, I got it right back

And now they like "Damn!" Now they like "Amazin!"

Tondra rolled four, five blunts and we blazin

Look at shawty gazin, he lookin like he want me

I'm sorry lil' daddy, I'm tryin to get your homie

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]

(Lames can't call her) Lames cain't call her

(All she date is ballers) She only date ballers

(Shawty got a fetish) For boys who go get it

(Squares can't call her) So the squares cain't call her

(Lames can't call her) Lames cain't call her

(All she date is ballers) She only date ballers

(Shawty got a fetish) For boys who go get it

(She only date ballers) It's Miss Shawnna

[Gucci Mane]

I'm Gucci Mane La Flare, I'm MVP

I know your baby momma real proud of me

The Benz line say they get tired of me

I'm young kush man I sell nuttin but QP's

Shawnna so fine, Gucci Mane I'm good

She's so pretty but still so hood

Hey little darlin, how you shawty?

I'm so mall-less I can't call it

I'm so Southern, you so Northern

We so crack rock, they so corny

It's 2:30, early in mornin

The way I cook a brick it's like I'm doing a performance

All eyes on we, homegirl want me

Zay he on the track, so the track real funky

Pants Red Monkey, Gucci go donkey

Niggas play crazy, get left stanky

[Chorus]

[Shawnna]

Yo, yo, ay, Shawnna

I wrote the verse three, for bitches in the hood

My Air One bitches, smokin on the good

Sittin on the po'ch, sippin on the 'gnac

Or posted in the parkin lot sittin on the 'llac

Them bitches got weight, them bitches got work

Them bitches wanna trip, them bitches gettin murked

And stick 'em in the dirt, and go on 'bout our bid'ness

And it ain't nuttin personal it's all about the figures

It's M.O.E., 'til a bitch a dead

And I don't give a fuck about what a bitch said

I'm still gettin money, I'm still gettin rich

I'm still that woman that'll take yo' dick

And yeah the truth hurts, you still gotta face it

I spent your whole deal on my ring and my bracelet

It's top notch twat, cream of the crop

I'm beatin down your block and let them choppers chop

Chop, chop, chop, chop... {*fades*}

[Chorus]

[Outro]

Geah~! {*3X*}