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ball and chain - ricky hil lyrics

[intro: panther]
*walk him down, you can’t hold him down! ball and chain here we go! my brother boo bonic! nothing really matters :d

[verse: ricky hil]
yeah, she came to see me, like a ball game
i used to wear her name, on a small chain
until she cheated on me, and i snapped on her
like a ball chain, you my ball and chain
you say you love me, but its all game
i be f*cking with these b*tches that you call lame
i feel all pain, it leaves a small stain
see, we too different
i wear d*ckies you wear balmain
i like weed you like cocaine
i gotta losе this girl mama, like loose change
i don’t know why i’m tripping likе loose strings
blood bleeds red outta blue veins
i get a feeling that i can’t explain
i get high, then i feel ashamed
i can’t appreciate you
you was hoing, that depreciate you
i don’t even give you all my time i abbreviate you
you stressed out, i can’t alleviate you
i don’t even hate you, its prolly k!lling you
it wasn’t even meant to, you know i can’t embrace you
and something in me can’t erase you
so i gotta replace you
assimilate you, i clone you
you know that b*tch i come home to
in my city that i roam through
and that life i’m holding on to
even if i don’t want to
[verse 2: bonic]
limos, nostra boys coming in, look
i’m cut from a cloth that buff shine a rolls royce
thought i was done rapping, they left me no choice
she said i gotta voice, it always leave her moist
she print model cause she 5’9″ [?]
i get the wonder in like stevie
if these b*tches really need me
if im broke would they need me?
it’s no hussle left, worth a nip
i convert a b*tch, i know you heard it b*tch
and that’s for lack of a better term
this sh*t different now, aye bro you better learn
yeah, you ain’t the only one getting bands
16 more to go offa only fans
me and my girl eat together like a first date
7 course meals, 6 figure deals
spitting with ricky hil, sh*t is always ill!
like stay at home orders, and tylenol pills
went i spit they say that man go
that man flow, crazy motherf*cker like van gogh
gun in my pocket b*tch i gotta let my hand go
just in case that man show
he want [?] with the baddest don daughta
in that 2020 prada, can’t fade me nada
i got the cheese to get you wrapped like an enchilada
i’m a combo, quesadilla, piña coladas
when the order go through, postmates
followed by a suite, post dates
i think you hoing out your talent if you post rates
make ’em holla at you, bonic i holla at you

- ricky hil lyrics

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