BALLA! Lyrics – Comic
Singer: Comic
Title: BALLA!
I got a Ill will that I still ‘main to kill beats
Till they feel enough to repeat this bar the parakeets
In other words, little birds steal my flow no clarity
Put you in a pigeon hole of rappers who can’t compare to me
All I spit is truth, who needs printers f#ck the fax
I can dunk on you for millions wearing shack attacks
[Whiplash] No snares cause we getting em back now
Please clap or no chair cause we kicking our back now
You can call me Dennis Rodman, but f#ck calling me Robin
Batsy and Mj get f#cking trashed by Bane and Goblin
Been in the industry since the day I was born
Day I be dead I’ll be buried with at least 50 forеigns
Nobody mourn
Cause I always come back
Posthumous album greatеst hits, every single f#cking track
I don’t need a gravestone jus put up all my Grammy plaques legit
I got no f#cking limit and I’m known for getting outta all this sh#t
It’s automatic accidentally wrote Illmatic
X Survival Tactics
Every other rapper static I go off way too sporadic
Fueled these b#tches with apple cider and flow rider
Thinking they’ll know who to pick when hiring a ghost writer
Sing along forget the oxygen
Other rappers put in time but I put more and it’s been clocking in
So take a deep breath before you hear this
I’m the greatest rapper alive and other b#tches fear this
Verse 2]
But f#ck that flexing sh#t
The last verse is how you all sound teaching your lessons kid
This ain’t the principle stop telling me to F off
You dumb f#cks second string pretending you the head hunter
This must be sleepy hollow
So start the violins
Got orchestra in mind I fret that your just buzzing in
It’s puzzling
Tetris all in your metric you ain’t the ruler you ain’t shot
You ain’t behemoths you peasants
So get your pitch forks up
They starta b#tchin shut up
I’ll grind for green, you’ll smoke your clovers so you all pushing your luck
I’ll put you in clutch
All the glitters isn’t gold
Don’t be bitter you ain’t Kim with yo Yeezys on show
Or Korea on hold, I know
You wanna be a star, Lamborghini car, just by spitting bars
Till you make the record pay now your playing guitar
And your strumming wrong notes
Painting with the wrong coats
Your milking this sh#t, starting beef with a lactose
Well I’m intolerant
Ain’t majesty y’all moderate
Ball fraudulent
Saying that We Major then get us a f#cking doctorate
Now your skipping school, sorry kiddy we got yo mama writ
Your gang some f#cking wankstas I ain’t never seen you popping sh#t
f#ck yo conglomerates and I mean it
What you been doing, oh wait you ain’t meaning sh#t
So when I’m talking to you I’m being legit
If you wanna be the teacher then you better keep the payroll b#tch
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Lyrics Comic – BALLA!
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