KID INK


Bad Ass Lyrics (ft. Wale & Meek Mill)

[Hook: Kid Ink]
I'm feeling like the man of the hour, tear down that house
I'm throwin' this money, like it's no runnin' out
Okay, but I wanna know, can you get in the aisle
And drop it down the pole, like it's a fire?
Now let me see just what you doin' with your bad ass
I can't help but watch you movin' with your bad ass
Let me see just what you doin' with your bad ass
I can't help but watch you movin' with your bad ass

[Verse 1: Kid Ink]
I'm feeling like a man of the hour, host of the evening,
But girl, it's your show, now bring it back, rerun
I got pockets of hundreds, they say that change is irrelevant
Lookin' up in the sky, I said I love watching you elevate
High as you ever been, we're gettin' hella bent
Ball so hard, I deserve me a Leatherman
Man, let me see that cake, cake, cake, like etamine
Ass up, gon' take it down like a sedative
That's a negative, ain't nobody wetter than her
Better get familiar like a motherf*ckerin' relative
Though you see the fireworks, you lookin' where my section is
All this money fallin' in the air like it's confetti, bitch

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Wale]
I'm the man of the hour, money and power
And I'm on my Lafitte, so I let got Geechee shit out me
And the city is ours, where the killers devour
Where the niggas lift slippers, and the victims left a few flowers
Okay?
Where the c-dog, know what I mean now, cool?
Better be loud when I leave that room
Knowin' how you move, how you got good shoes
When the heat on niggas be like “whew”
Young nigga with some old riches
In the coldest swimming I be with, we on the cold bitches
The broad left me, I swear that I'm p-noid, you get me?
Dough – and of course she got them cakes but I'm tryin' to see that throat
35-O-O my code
We high, chuggin' on that dope
Turn around, girl let a nigga know
Double M, young Olu, go!

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
I'm feelin' like the man of the hour, host of the evening
These niggas is haters, they know that we eatin'
I got a bitch in Jamaica, find it tough when we speakin'
I get your chick and I take her, talkin', got a boat for the weekend
I'm just a young nigga out there ballin'
All these bad bitches callin'
Rollie off like a new obelisk
In the big Rolls Royce, can't park it
Got gold rims on my Aston Martin
Now I'm rollin' up in that foreign
I said all my bitches bad, foreign
And you can rent our last Aston Martin
Hold up -
I flex hard on Instagram, post your bitch on InstaHam
Pyrex pots that's instant grams, drop that work that's instant bands
And I'm sittin' man, on a couple mil'
Swear my life's so f*ckin' real
Back to the wall like “f*ck the world”
And niggas say f*ck me, I'mma f*ck their girl

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Kid Ink]
Now go ahead with that bad ass, and fast cash, right, dash past
Them silicones, that bad ass, got cheese out, the rat trap
Real late night, no cat naps, you so acrobatic
Just move it to the bass slap, the bass slap like the mackest
No question we turnt up, workin' on my fourth cup
Been throwin' all this money like the ass is for purchase
Very important person, don't take it too personal
Got more bottles than homies, it's a movie, ready for the show!

[Outro]
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these lyrics are submitted by BURKUL3
Songwriter(s): Mike Maven, Robert Williams, Jason Martin, Khalief Brown, Olubowale Victor Akintimehin, Brian Todd Collins, Devin E. Montgomery, Keenan Jackson
Record Label(s): 2013 RCA Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment
Official lyrics by

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