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No Line Video (MV)




Performed By: Ghost Boy
Length: 3:24
Written by: Shivanshu Sinha




Ghost Boy - No Line Lyrics
Official




I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I got money on the line
Money on my mind
Acting funny all the time
That bih bunny, looking fine
Make her mine, but I won't be anyone's
Gotta shine, ice pick up the ambiance
Getting high, got kush louder than these drums
Feeling fine, not without the medicine
Bitch I'm off a f*cking pill
You know what's the f*cking deal
This is not a f*cking drill
Everything we do is real
Gotta Kill, gotta some people I gotta Kill
How that feel, letting it out how good that feel
All my bills, green and pink all of my bills
Automobile, I be drifting, chilling, trill
On my Tokyo shit (no ghoul)
You ain't f*ck with my clique? (F*ck you)
Little boy got all confused
I'm a fat man fat man, well that's true
Boutta blow up like these two suckers
Oh shit maybe too edgy, a bitch got cut off
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
Making money all the time
This typa shit that be on my mind
Suiting perfect, dripping fine
Sipping on some red wine
Making money, I'm a king
Lil boy, I'm a plug
Getting money, any means
Lil boy I'm a thug
All my shoes, they too snug
Sexy height, this a curse
Darkenss on me, getting worse
Not long till my head bursts
Only thing helping, guap and drugs
Too long in the back, now I'll be first
Walking through this shit like, I'm rehearsed
Sucking on some titties just like a nurse
Pharmaceutical, need me some prescriptions eh
All this true to the bone, there ain't no fiction eh
No addiction ay
I've a condition ay
It's the fruition ay
Of my vision ay
I'm a motherf*cking visionary
Mastermind shit
Reading any tom and dick and Harry
Determined shit
Cut the bitch off now I gotta redefine shit
No more crying sleeping perfect living fine shit
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I got money on the line
Money on my mind
Acting funny all the time
That bih bunny, looking fine
Make her mine, but I won't be anyone's
Gotta shine, ice pick up the ambiance
Getting high, got kush louder than these drums
Feeling fine, not without the medicine
Bitch I'm off a f*cking pill
You know what's the f*cking deal
This is not a f*cking drill
Everything we do is real
Gotta Kill, gotta some people I gotta Kill
How that feel, letting it out how good that feel
All my bills, green and pink all of my bills
Automobile, I be drifting, chilling, trill
On my Tokyo shit (no ghoul)
You ain't f*ck with my clique? (F*ck you)
Little boy got all confused
I'm a fat man fat man, well that's true
Boutta blow up like these two suckers
Oh shit maybe too edgy, a bitch got cut off
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
Making money all the time
This typa shit that be on my mind
Suiting perfect, dripping fine
Sipping on some red wine
Making money, I'm a king
Lil boy, I'm a plug
Getting money, any means
Lil boy I'm a thug
All my shoes, they too snug
Sexy height, this a curse
Darkenss on me, getting worse
Not long till my head bursts
Only thing helping, guap and drugs
Too long in the back, now I'll be first
Walking through this shit like, I'm rehearsed
Sucking on some titties just like a nurse
Pharmaceutical, need me some prescriptions eh
All this true to the bone, there ain't no fiction eh
No addiction ay
I've a condition ay
It's the fruition ay
Of my vision ay
I'm a motherf*cking visionary
Mastermind shit
Reading any tom and dick and Harry
Determined shit
Cut the bitch off now I gotta redefine shit
No more crying sleeping perfect living fine shit
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
I ain't tryna call
I'm just tryna ball
I don't got no time for texting
All day everyday flexing
F*ck a FaceTime
All these bitches waste mine
Always on my grind
Cos my money on the line
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Shivanshu Sinha
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Ghost Boy

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