Air Jordan Lyrics & Tabs by Montana of 300
Air Jordan
guitar chords lyrics
These broke niggas can't afford it,
The bad bitches can't ignore it
Gotta ball for the fans, whole team gettin' bands
Throwin' money in the air like Jordan
Money in the air like (uh huh)
Money in the air like Jordan
Gotta ball for the fans, whole team gettin' bands
Throwin' money in the air like Jordan
Throw money in the air like, uh huh
Money in the air like Jordan
Everything white dude Zach Morris
Bitches wanna kick it like my name Chuck Norris
That trues on top of them Jordans
Got bitches on my heels like Forrest
If I hit her with the dack, my nigga its a wrap
That trues on top of them Jordans
Got bitches on my heels like Forrest
If I hit her with the dack, my nigga its a wrap
I'ma have that bitch hooked like a Give the bitch more wood than a forest
I'ma cut her just like the surgeon
My swagga tight as a virgin
Just hit a lick on the vic, I'm splurgin'
Throw money like it ain't no limit
Two bitches on my lap thats kissin'
If you niggas keep sneak dissin'
Then my nigga, he gone shoot like Pippen
Love the game like Mitch, but I ball like Mike
Everybody take pics, when a nigga take flight
Shawty all on my dick, Like I'm finna say hike
I'ma hit that bitch like a nigga named Ike
These fuck niggas be hatin' hard
They move some, my tool bust
And I shine hard, cause I grind hard
And these thotianas be crew lovin'
Its HF, and my crew stuntin'
My niggas icy like cool runnin'
Yo boo blush when I wink at her, we leave the club bout 2 some
Hotel room, with yo bitch, I go to sleep, yo boo suckin'
I wake up, and I roll over
Hit that bitch, snooze button
Aye this Chicago, we rock Jordans
Ya'll can't hold me, I'm Michael
Man I'll whack whoever try to, thats right hand on the bible
Bitch I'm M.J. in the finals, aka yo new idol
Money stacked tall as the Eiffel, cockin' bitches like rifles
OK now shawty got her tongue out, uh huh, tongue out on a nigga like Jordan
Gettin top from a thot named Morgan
In the parkin' lot with the 40 in the foreign
Already cocked, tell the opps I ain't goin'
Shawty still blowin' don't stop keep goin'
I don't play around, i'll spray around, lay a nigga down, on top read the paper in the mornin'
Yeah yo team suck, yo bitch too
She refereein' my whistle, that bitch blew, and my wrist blue, I'm iced out, no igloo
Ralph Lauren, Michael Jordan, Gucci, Louie, I do it
I be soarin', Like I'm Jordan
Goofy, you Patrick Ewing
Uh huh, I love the game, and I'm tied to it
F.G.E. I'm signed to it
I'm with the shits, I don't sit the bench
I don't drive the lane, I glide through it
You ain't ballin', shame on you
Bitches on us, but they ain't on you
I'm in V.I.P., With yo ho on my lap
Get the ho a stack, make it rain on you
Ok I'm breaded up, and I'm breaded up
M.V.P. and V.I.P
My young niggas up in the club
And they ain't showin' no I.D.,
I got more juice than Hi-C
I'm Gucci, I'm so icy
I'm trued up and I'm Mikey
Come watch me ball like Spike Lee (Yeah!!)
Yo girl all on my dick, you shouldn't have came with her
I bet I hit that bitch, like a game winner
You see my chain glitter
I'ma make it rain nigga
Just don't forget I'm Mr. Let That 40 Bang Nigga!!!
