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)