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Portuguese
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Corrección Letra
I Just Want to Ball
par
Larry June
Regreso
Letra
Yeah Check it out Turn me up Good job, Killa Killa Numbers Yeah Yeah I just want to ball on you n***as and get hella stacks Bad b*t*h on my line, I’ma f**k her, never call her back I can’t even lie, if the pu**y’s good, I’ll have her run it back The way I’m thumbin’ through the racks Show you how I’m runnin’ through the packs I just want to ball on you n***as and get hella stacks Bad b*t*h on my line, I’ma f**k her, never call her back I can’t even lie, if the pu**y’s good, I’ll have her run it back The way I’m thumbin’ through the racks Show you how I’m runnin’ through the packs I’m swervin’ in and out of lanes With my d**k stuffed down this model’s throat My chain’s a kilo, you got a 10-karat hollow rope It’s twenty on my left wrist, thirty more up on this big chain Watch me baptize the flooded-out Rollie in expensive champagne I’m thankful for the cold nights, I ain’t have it like I do now Seattle lights reflectin’ off my porch when I slide through town It’s seven on my Forgi’s, 9020 for the feet I’m with a pretty b*t*h that’s foreign And she gon’ suck me ‘til I’m sleep I knock a b*t*h and f**k her once, I’ll probably never call her back Unless she’s ‘bout her money bags Then, I’ll take that b*t*h across the map Picked the phone up and hit my cousin Larry like “n***a, where you at?” He said, “I’m out in San Francisco with a chick and checkin’ trap” My new foreign came with all the options Got all these n***as’ b*t*hes watchin’ My old b*t*h said she love me, but I did the hoe like Tristan Thompson I hopped up out the whip in Givenchy with the Fendi mix Free my n***a C You better cuff her if you love that b*t*h It’s Killa I just want to ball on you n***as and get hella stacks Bad b*t*h on my line, I’ma f**k her, never call her back I can’t even lie, if the pu**y’s good, I’ll have her run it back The way I’m thumbin’ through the racks Show you how I’m runnin’ through the packs I just want to ball on you n***as and get hella stacks Bad b*t*h on my line, I’ma f**k her, never call her back I can’t even lie, if the pu**y’s good, I’ll have her run it back The way I’m thumbin’ through the racks Show you how I’m runnin’ through the packs Still havin’ plenty of it, so much, I’m like f**k a trap So much clarity in my watch, I could’ve bought a Jag- Handmade cashmere sweater, the trap goin’ ham Chillin’ on the beach with my b*t*h, I just love the sand Eighty-dollar candles in my house, that’s playa sh*t Turned down five-hunid-thousand, on some label sh*t A driver just to take me up the street, on some lazy sh*t House out the way – where the safe sit I don’t rap much, I just paint sh*t Picture so vivid, lost my voice in Miami jet-skiin’ with these b*t*hes All about elevation, get them snakes out your circle ‘Cause the ones most close be the ones that’ll hurt you
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