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G Eazy - Bang Feat Tyga Lyrics

Ayy, I'm a balla, baby, he ain't got no game
I'm a big dog, baby, rock big chains
And I need a super freak like Rick James
Pop that ass for me, baby, make that shit bang, bang, bang
Make that shit bang, bang, bang
Make that shit bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Pop that ass for me, baby, make that shit bang

Why so serious? I'm never fuckin' around
These pigeons dead stock, they never touchin' the ground
Plane Jane Patek I'm never bustin' it down
Flagrant as fuck, I'm never toning it down (Yeah)
Oh, you big mad?
Why you chasin' a chick that I been had?
Took your dream girl down, yeah, I did that
Got some pop-star bodies, been hit that
Believe me, my belt got notches
Safe full of diamonds, a couple nice watches
Made some mistakes and they think they could stop us
But Tiger plays golf and the whole world watches (Yee)

Ayy, I'm a balla, baby, he ain't got no game (Winners win)
I'm a big dog, baby, rock big chains
And I need a super freak like Rick James
Pop that ass for me, baby, make that shit bang, bang, bang
Make that shit bang, bang, bang
Make that shit bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Pop that ass for me, baby, make that shit bang

Load it up, aim, pop, shoot it up (Yeah)
Boot it up, strapped up, toot it up (Woo)
It's game time, put me in, I'm suited up
Bitch, I'm good enough (Yeah) , I don't need the luck (Yeah)
Heartbreaker like Suzie, hotter than jacuzzi
Make her bob, open mouth like a scary movie (Ah)
I got 10 cars, park them like Lil Uzi (Yeah)
The proof's in the income, I ain't gotta prove it (No)
She got a man, nigga, I ain't stupid
But the way you work that body, you gon' have to lose it
And that pussy good, show me how you use it (Yeah)
Step by step, baby, go through it (Ayy)

I'm a balla, baby, he ain't got no game (Ayy)
I'm a big dog, baby, rock big chains (Big dog)
And I need a super freak like Rick James (Ayy)
Pop that ass for me, baby, make that shit bang, bang, bang
Make that shit bang, bang, bang (Come on)
Make that shit bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Pop that ass for me, baby, make that shit bang

Yeah, talk to me nicely
Fifty on the chain, oh my god, I'm so pricey
Mami, she Spanish, she keep it so spicy
When she throw it back, she like, "Papi, don't bite me"
Yeah, make her bend down
She 'gon let me clip when I'm in town
Big Bentley truck, rolled her tints down
10k a month, Hell's Kitchen in Midtown (Yeah)
L. A. to New York, Bicoastal
I'm international, not local
A band for these vintage Chanel bifocals
If you ain't talkin' bags, then I'm antisocial, be gone