Bada Bing
Bada Bing

Jim Jones, Harry Fraud ft. French Montana - Bada Bing Lyrics

5
Bada Bing Music Video

Bada Bing Lyrics

Uh
Nah, bitch, I don't speak in French
Oui-oui, ho
On the road to riches
Facts

Every time I pull up with a ting (bling-bling, with a ting, with a ting)
Fast cars, diamond rings (bling-bling, diamond rings, diamond rings)
Bada-boom, bada-bing (bling-bling, bada-bing, bada-bing)
My youngin make the chopper sing (bling-bling, chopper sing, chopper sing)
My youngin make the drummers (woo, drummers, drummers)
My youngin make the drummers (woo, drummers, drummers)
Bada-boom, bada-bing (bling-bling, bada-bing, bada-bing)
My youngin make the drummers (woo, drummers, drummers)

Bada-boom, bada-bing (uh)
Got a room, got a ting (facts)
House so big that the room's got a wing (where you at?)
You could see the stars and the moons in my ring (bling-bling)
Always show love to the goons in the bing (Eastside)
I'm just a cold-blooded fella from the H (grr)
Ex-drug dealer, used to sell a bunch of weight (yeah)
And the cars got stars like they come from outer space (ooh)
And the rocks in my watch lookin' like they're jumpin' out the face (stupid)
All this water on my body got me drippin' wet (really)
Fly clothes that I be rockin' got me drippin' fresh (ayy)
You know I fuck 'em then I duck 'em, had them bitches stressed
And I just laugh and leave 'em on read when I get the text

Every time I pull up with a ting (bling-bling, with a ting, with a ting)
Fast cars, diamond rings (bling-bling, diamond rings, diamond rings)
Bada-boom, bada-bing (bling-bling, bada-bing, bada-bing)
My youngin make the chopper sing (bling-bling, chopper sing, chopper sing)
My youngin make the drummers (woo, drummers, drummers)
My youngin make the drummers (woo, drummers, drummers)
Bada-boom, bada-bing (bling-bling, bada-bing, bada-bing)
My youngin make the drummers (woo, drummers, drummers)

Choppers singin' like a group
Droppin' hits, yeah, bazook'
Fuck the four door, I'ma coupe it
From the floor up, I maneuver
Look 'em up, it's all a cap
Made millions off of trap
Starter bundle, that's a pack
Put the South Bronx on my back
From the ground up to the skyscrapers
Front and we gon' violate ya
Judge like, "You high, ain't you?"
Coupe, yeah, wild spacious
Black truck, new body
Jet with two pilots
Diamond rings, more dollars
New ting, no mileage
Stars worth of stars in the Wraith
Got a table like a bar
Buy the bar with the eight
I'ma ball like Jamal
Yeah, Crawford with the cake
Chopper singin' with the bass,
Joint movin' like she laced, ha

Every time I pull up with a ting (with a ting, with a ting)
Fast cars, diamond rings (diamond rings, diamond rings)
Bada-boom, bada-bing (bada-bing, bada-bing)
My youngin make the chopper sing (chopper sing, chopper sing)
My youngin make the drummers (drummers, drummers)
My youngin make the drummers (drummers, drummers)
Bada-boom, bada-bing (bada-bing, bada-bing)
My youngin make the drummers (drummers, drummers)

My youngin make the drummers
My youngin make the drummers

Writer(s): Joseph Guillermo Jones II, Rory W. Quigley, Karim Kharbouch
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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