song lyrics / Drip G / Oddball lyrics  | FRen Français

Oddball lyrics

Performer Drip G

Oddball song lyrics by Drip G official

Oddball is a song in English

Slam a hundred shots up in this chopper, I don't gotta aim
Fuck the haters, do not let them stop you, stay up in your lane
Fuck these hoes, do not worry about them, pass them to the gang
I am ruthless, I will put this .40 to your fucking brain
Put a Glock up to your mouth and now you cannot speak
Nigga, fuck you talkin' bout, I'll leave you six feet deep
If you talkin' money, nigga, we can fuckin' link
Oh, was that your shorty, low-key, that bitch is a treesh
Always makin' money moves
40 on my wrist, VVS, these expensive jewels
I don't love these bitches no more, ain't a fuckin' fool
I rock Jordan 1 Dior's, 20 on the shoes
I like money conversations, nigga, go and set some goals
Get up off your ass and chase a bag and never chase a hoe
You gon' hit rock bottom, rub it off and run it up some more
Stay solid, never fold, and remember, stay humble
Focus on yourself, I promise you gon' pass them up
Give me a few years I'm swervin' in that Bentley truck
I was sick of bein' broke, I had to run it up
I can't see myself as average, had to step it up
I'm a business man, I tuck my glizzy with my fuckin' shirt
Drop 30 of your homies, then I got a nuclear
Pop me a few pillies, huh, these is fuckin' perks
I don't love these bitches, really, all they do is hurt me
Ballin' in this bitch, I feel like Kobe
Stop talkin', boy, you don't know me
Say you got bands, come and show me
Sike, I don't want your lil' money
Those is lil' bands
When you join the team, get a lamb for your advance
Leave your niggas in the past if you got some big plans
Focus on yourself, not these bitches, they gon' hold you back
Listen what I'm sayin', nigga, know this from experience
I don't like the fame, turn my homies into fuckin' rats
Only fuck with Benjamin, he stuffed in my Amiri pants
Moral of the story, do it solo, you don't need no friends, huh
Slam a hundred shots up in this chopper, I don't gotta aim
Fuck the haters, do not let them stop you, stay up in your lane
Fuck these hoes, do not worry about them, pass them to the gang
I am ruthless, I will put this .40 to your fucking brain
Put a Glock up to your mouth and now you cannot speak
Nigga, fuck you talkin' bout, I'll leave you six feet deep
If you talkin' money, nigga, we can fuckin' link
Oh, was that your shorty, low-key, that bitch is a treesh, ahh
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writer: Giovanni Gutierrez
Copyright: O/B/O DistroKid

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