Nashawn - Fait Ball lyrics

Strike (One)

Batter got another swing

Money Machine team we do our thang

Strike (Two)

And I'm a test my luck

The pitcher going hard he want another batter up

Strike (Three)

You know that I'm gon' swing

I tip the ball now I'm gon' again

Strike (Four)

I'm gon' for the homerun

It's going, going, gone!

I take off through the moon roof

You hear a clap that's Nashawn Jones in that red coupe

You hear that, yes, I got them girl's suit

And wear that, right here I do the damn du

My plan plat, I don't care what her man do

She got some wonderful toes in them sandals

And gamble that fat ass I can handle

I don't be there on the corner, I don't scramble

A grown man I roll my weed up and bamble

And beef I take a man apart, I dismantle

Two right behind the ear, I'm from the Galaxy kid

With sought to make my salary big

I don't care how those factual's live

But with the Money Machine make a deposit and the check will be clear

Yeah, I said the cash will be there

But if you don't produce right fun boy your casket will be there

Problems y'all don't want it, I swing that bat

I'm a dog in a world that'll kill that cat

I just lounge in the mound with my hat on back

And step up to the plate, Bonds up to bat

Nah, Nashawn jiggy spit that crack

I look nice with the siggy man my dunn go black

Yeah, you bets believe my recipe will be

Smoking that weed, the piff is a tree for me

I'm running through speed, yo Flex drop a bomb diggy

She got Money Machine tatted on her titties

Stomp hard in the city, nothing ain't pretty

But the cars and the Mac-10s, rims and the broke friends

I'm going hard; I'm trying to stress those ends

Sit nice in the Benz, I want her and her friends

Head blown in the wind, Money Machine my team

Stack nothing but suitcases of green