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cezar wok - certified baller كلمات الأغنية

[intro: cezar wok]
y’already know, bro
yung paolo, turn the ac on

[chorus: cezar wok]
yo’ girl in a honda, my b_tch in a benz
yo’ b_tch baby momma be f_ckin’ my gang
good morning, i’m sorry, my 40 gon’ bang
i’m flamin’ up bodies like marty, i’m insane
i wake up and shoot up a blunt in my face
my opps in the ash tray, there’s no trace
them strangers is puff_puff_passed in a strain
the money on my name, whatchu n_ggas gon’ claim?
my wrist is on water, my b_tch is a model
don’t kiss me, lil b_tch ’cause my t__th full of diamonds
can’t smoke inside so i pulled out a hunna’ (a hunna’)
can’t tell me sh_t, i’ma certified baller
my mission “apollo”, i need get to rockets and empty the clip, i’ma make sure it’s hollow
ain’t got her designer, i just bought her a condom (condom)
thesе b_tches be ugly, i put a bag above hеr

[verse 1: cezar wok]
wo_wok on the track, then you walk with money
waves got brushed, boy yo’ t__th ain’t brushed yet
i’m in a penthouse, always upping
you in the bas_m_nt, tryna get up there
shootin’ and openin’ wounds like a mosh pit
bands on a benz in the six, ain’t no frontin’
20 my wrist, but no 20 bills on me
keep a 40 tucked in, it’s a big boy on me
everyday wake up, tryna get it cracking, tryna break out the bones out of every f_ckin’ track
push on that pedal till i hit that cl!ck, i’ma shoot up my guns till i got no more clips (prra_prra)
i can’t resit, all this mother f_ckin’ anger in me, i don’t know where it came from, but it made me sin
they ask if i can, but not how i am
not how i feel, i still try to be the man
ah, yeah i’m that young n_gga, iced out
worry bout yo’ b_tch, don’t worry ’bout me now
neck “snowpiercer”, my chain a freezer and i’m riding around with my nina
quit tryna be like, quit tryna be like cezar
you can’t defeat us (nah), i’m armed to the t__th and further
b_tches don’t leave us, they know where the heat at, n_ggas tryna be us
bullets totin’ me wherever the smoke at, we tryna be there
quit tryna be like, quit tryna be like cezar
you can’t defeat us, i’m armed to the t__th and further
[chorus: cezar wok]
yo’ girl in a honda, my b_tch in a benz
yo’ b_tch baby momma be f_ckin’ my gang
good morning, i’m sorry, my 40 gon’ bang
i’m flamin’ up bodies like marty, i’m insane
i wake up and shoot up a blunt in my face
my opps in the ash tray, there’s no trace
them strangers is puff_puff_passed in a strain
the money on my name, whatchu n_ggas gon’ claim?
my wrist is on water, my b_tch is a model
don’t kiss me, lil b_tch ’cause my t__th full of diamonds
can’t smoke inside so i pulled out a hunna’ (a hunna’)
can’t tell me sh_t, i’ma certified baller
my mission “apollo”, i need get to rockets and empty the clip, i’ma make sure it’s hollow
ain’t got her designer, i just bought her a condom
these b_tches be ugly, i put a bag above her

[verse 2: yung paolo]
f_ck around, blowin’ heads off, this’ no black ops
louis just dropped, grabbed my card, blowin’ bands off
i just f_cked that b_tch, there’s no feelings in my inner soul
i’m just gettin’ rich, no pills like bezos
heard that b_tch cryin’, i’ma turn her to a dancer (on god)
said “i’m a pisces”, i don’t f_ck with no cancer (nah, nah)
shorty give me head, top on, don’t enhance her (yung paolo)
fly her across the globe, one week she didn’t answer
dropped half a milli’ on a brand new whip
(instant), brand new b_tch, no cap
made those back in a brand new week (what?)
she wanted a brand new wig (aha)
wake up in the morning, add a brand new fig’ (more money, cash)
i just flipped a brick (ching_ching)
f_ck a thick thot, this’ no tiktok b_tch (what, what?)
f_ck a tiktok b_tch
tryna blow up, get my flows up
i don’t give a f_ck, give a f_ck ’bout them feelings of a tinder thot
he say “thot” like “f_ck that”, i don’t play with n_ggas chasin’ b_tches for a head talk (i don’t f_ck with that)
flashin’ my wrist, it’s cuban (flash)
chill your b_tch, she not human (she not)
bro stop hittin’ on that thot like w smith
you gon’ get dumped, that b_tch got a new man
[chorus: cezar wok]
yo’ girl in a honda, my b_tch in a benz
yo’ b_tch baby momma be f_ckin’ my gang
good morning, i’m sorry, my 40 gon’ bang
i’m flamin’ up bodies like marty, i’m insane
i wake up and shoot up a blunt in my face
my opps in the ash tray, there’s no trace
them strangers is puff_puff_passed in a strain
the money on my name, whatchu n_ggas gon’ claim?
my wrist is on water, my b_tch is a model
don’t kiss me, lil b_tch ’cause my t__th full of diamonds
can’t smoke inside so i pulled out a hunna’ (alright)
can’t tell me sh_t, i’ma certified baller
my mission “apollo”, i need get to rockets and empty the clip, i’ma make sure it’s hollow
ain’t got her designer, i just bought her a condom
these b_tches be ugly, i put a bag above her

[outro: cezar wok & yung paolo]
wok
yeah, let’s get it bro!

- cezar wok

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