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Fadeaway (feat. Im Sossa) Video (MV)




Performed By: Mike Tierney
Language: English
Length: 3:11
Written by: GUY DRAKE, THOMAS JOHNSON




Mike Tierney - Fadeaway (feat. Im Sossa) Lyrics




Ballin' so damn hard I hit his ass up with that fadeaway
Bitches come in two's, cause I'm the one like Penny Hardaway
I can't trust a soul, I hesitate to give my heart away
I could sit and front, I'd rather do this shit the harder way
Got a Spanish mami on my line and she say ándele
Walk up in the mall I wonder what I'm finna buy today
Poppin' out the club I do that shit like every Saturday
Who's that talking on the gang
Get they ass up outta there

Bitch I'm ballin'
I'm ballin' on and off the court, no fallin'
Tryna pull up in Trackhawks and them Porsches
I'm on some boss shit so I need a dog bitch
I need a dog bitch who don't do that barking
Pull up we sparking shit we don't do talking
Flip the switch up the score, we don't take bargains
A legend like I'm Jumpman talking Jordan
4th quarter buzzing and you know I'm scoring

Ballin' so damn hard I hit his ass up with that fadeaway
Bitches come in two's, cause I'm the one like Penny Hardaway
I can't trust a soul, I hesitate to give my heart away
I could sit and front, I'd rather do this shit the harder way
Got a Spanish mami on my line and she say ándele
Walk up in the mall I wonder what I'm finna buy today
Poppin' out the club I do that shit like every Saturday
Who's that talking on the gang
Get they ass up outta there (yeah)

Now listen
Just know we standing on business
Shoot my shot I ain't never missing
Feel like I'm Jordan ballin' against the Pistons
Making records ain't talking Guinness
Stacking these racks I ain't talking tennis
I could treat you like my wife, but I'd still f*ck you like my mistress
Cause I'm in my bag like M&M's
Know in this game there ain't no friends
Got baddies around me, 8's through 10's
I shoot my shot, invader sim
In my bag like M&M's
Know in this game there ain't no friends
Got baddies around me, 8's through 10's
I shoot my shot, invader sim

Ballin' so damn hard I hit his ass up with that fadeaway
Bitches come in two's, cause I'm the one like Penny Hardaway
I can't trust a soul, I hesitate to give my heart away
I could sit and front, I'd rather do this shit the harder way
Got a Spanish mami on my line and she say ándele
Walk up in the mall I wonder what I'm finna buy today
Poppin' out the club I do that shit like every Saturday
Who's that talking on the gang
Get they ass up outta there (yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Ballin' so damn hard I hit his ass up with that fadeaway
Bitches come in two's, cause I'm the one like Penny Hardaway
I can't trust a soul, I hesitate to give my heart away
I could sit and front, I'd rather do this shit the harder way
Got a Spanish mami on my line and she say ándele
Walk up in the mall I wonder what I'm finna buy today
Poppin' out the club I do that shit like every Saturday
Who's that talking on the gang
Get they ass up outta there

Bitch I'm ballin'
I'm ballin' on and off the court, no fallin'
Tryna pull up in Trackhawks and them Porsches
I'm on some boss shit so I need a dog bitch
I need a dog bitch who don't do that barking
Pull up we sparking shit we don't do talking
Flip the switch up the score, we don't take bargains
A legend like I'm Jumpman talking Jordan
4th quarter buzzing and you know I'm scoring

Ballin' so damn hard I hit his ass up with that fadeaway
Bitches come in two's, cause I'm the one like Penny Hardaway
I can't trust a soul, I hesitate to give my heart away
I could sit and front, I'd rather do this shit the harder way
Got a Spanish mami on my line and she say ándele
Walk up in the mall I wonder what I'm finna buy today
Poppin' out the club I do that shit like every Saturday
Who's that talking on the gang
Get they ass up outta there (yeah)

Now listen
Just know we standing on business
Shoot my shot I ain't never missing
Feel like I'm Jordan ballin' against the Pistons
Making records ain't talking Guinness
Stacking these racks I ain't talking tennis
I could treat you like my wife, but I'd still f*ck you like my mistress
Cause I'm in my bag like M&M's
Know in this game there ain't no friends
Got baddies around me, 8's through 10's
I shoot my shot, invader sim
In my bag like M&M's
Know in this game there ain't no friends
Got baddies around me, 8's through 10's
I shoot my shot, invader sim

Ballin' so damn hard I hit his ass up with that fadeaway
Bitches come in two's, cause I'm the one like Penny Hardaway
I can't trust a soul, I hesitate to give my heart away
I could sit and front, I'd rather do this shit the harder way
Got a Spanish mami on my line and she say ándele
Walk up in the mall I wonder what I'm finna buy today
Poppin' out the club I do that shit like every Saturday
Who's that talking on the gang
Get they ass up outta there (yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: GUY DRAKE, THOMAS JOHNSON
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

Back to: Mike Tierney

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