In the field, turn the wheels
We on top
King of the hill
You niggas my sons
Bradley Beal
Give me the ball, go for the kill
Hell yeah, we run them out
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hell yeah, we run them out
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hell yeah, we run them out
I'm in Balmain with the guys
Cause they all put in work
Martin Luther had a dream
That put that nigga in the dirt
You're so awful, you're the worst
You got more issues than Vogue
But you ain't a model
Poppin' pussy, let her do the worst
Cause I ain't cuffin shit
The only time I'm ever f*ckin' her
Is if she filthy rich
Draft day, I ain't shakin' hands
Bad bitch with me, shakin' ass
Split a bag with the guys triple 7
Bitch, can you sit down
This my fourth Percocet today
If you around, I suggest you move
My niggas don't got no aim
She keep dancin' around me
I don't got time for kid and play
It was supposed to be one night
Who the f*ck said she could stay
You see this watch
I can probably bag a bitch in my Crocs
You see the scripts in here
I ain't never even seen the docs
Might get thug like cross my body
Bitch, I'm runnin' round like I'm Pac
Feel like David, got this pole on me
I'm comin' from the block
In the field, turn the wheels
We on top
King of the hill
You niggas my sons
Bradley Beal
Give me the ball, go for the kill
Hell yeah, we run them out
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hell yeah, we run them out
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hell yeah, we run them out
