Fait Ball

(Chorus) Nashawn Strike (One) Batter got another swing Money Machine team we do our thang Strike (Two) And I'ma 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! [Nashawn] 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 (Chorus) [Nashawn] 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 (Chorus)