[Intro: Joc Lowe]
Woah, woah, oh
Yeah, what you tell 'em, Thug?
[Chorus: Young Thug & Joc Lowe]
I'm ballin' (We ballin'), we ballin' (We ballin')
She ballin' (She ballin'), and we ballin' (We ballin')
And they foulin' (They foulin'), and they callin' (They callin')
And we stylin' (We stylin'), 'cause we ballin' (We ballin'), like
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin'
[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Ahem, I'm not a rapper
But you might catch us flyin' out to Vegas to cop a couple acres
But we ain't coppin' no waiter 'cause, shit, I'm the waiter
Why? 'Cause she make me wait for her
Now I adore her and I love it
I tried puttin' it at the top but the cash is still above it
And if you think you can fold this cash, you may pack up and leave
And I'm through talkin', so I'ma let the song bleed
Like yeah, like yeah, like yeah
Then that felt like I was on the throne
And I took me a shot of Patron
And I called that ho phone and told her, "Get back, come"
But if she don't
[Chorus: Young Thug & Joc Lowe]
I'm ballin' (We ballin'), we ballin' (We ballin')
She ballin' (She ballin'), and we ballin' (We ballin')
And they foulin' (They foulin'), and they callin' (They callin')
And we stylin' (We stylin'), 'cause we ballin' (We ballin'), like
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin' (Verse two)
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin' (Dos), we ballin'
[Verse 2: Young Thug]
She say she fuckin' with me
So you know I'm fuckin' with her back
Like the tag on her shirt and that's crazy
But I don't like the tags on my shirt, yeah
And I be playin' around with her like a kidder
But I ain't need to kid her
But I fuck with the ROC Crew
And I'm pro so I had to pro kid her, yeah
Now all the boys dig her
And she like, "Thug, are you kid'?"
And I was like, "Nah, this a mink, not a kids"
I ain't drawed on your car, that's a ribbon
And yeah, I be really freestylin', this wasn't written
[Chorus: Young Thug & Joc Lowe]
I'm ballin' (We ballin'), we ballin' (We ballin')
She ballin' (She ballin'), and we ballin' (We ballin')
And they foulin' (They foulin'), and they callin' (They callin')
And we stylin' (We stylin'), 'cause we ballin' (We ballin'), like
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin'
We ballin', we ballin'
[Verse 3: Joc Lowe]
Yeah, I'm rollin' up them ball bats
Two grams in a Giant, what you call that?
Yeah, this shit taste like some fresh fruit
Lean back and blow it out the roof
Ha, vanilla seats in the coupe
Windows tinted and it's bulletproof
Call them bitches and they comin' through
Don't miss your blessings, baby, achoo
YSL on my shoes
My bitch name Jimmy Choo
Man, I swear my religion True
I'm pourin' Tussin' like I got the flu
Any bitch'll say that I'm the truth
And Me and Thug with them foreigns back to back with the pistols drew
