Ballin Lyrics by Spice 1

Ballin Lyrics

    Chorus:
    I'll be a baller 'til i die
    I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, i die a paid nigga
    I'll be a baller 'til i die
    I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, i die a paid nigga
    I'll be a baller 'til i die
    I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, i die a paid nigga
    I'll be a baller 'til i die
    I'll be ballin' to my grave nigga, i die a paid nigga

    Spice 1:
    Some niggas be all up in my shit, you need to quit
    Sprinkle a motherfucker that will leave you split
    Tore back ass out bringing you your hat
    Flat broke, talking about fuck that nigga s-p-i
    But you can't go one on one spice 1 because i'm born
    To die
    I gets even up on they ass like punk bitches in ditches
    The gangsterism resulting in murderism
    Bailing up in your hooptie at the gas station
    You facing the killer for real-a punk ass nigga
    Where the scrilla
    Jacking you for your shit, taking your ends pull off
    My mask
    Hitting the corner, hopping up in my benz with your
    Cash
    Mobbing i mash out, you ass out
    Left you shot up in your seven-trey glasshouse
    Because you don't know me like you think you do, i'm
    Down for thefetty
    Ready to die for them presidents, high powered and
    Deadly
    I ask to ball or not to ball, partner answer the
    Question
    I meet a nigga running up on my hooptie with smith
    And wesson

    Chorus

    Yukmouth:
    One time for your mind
    Here to represent the pimps, playas, hustlas, ballers
    All my niggas on the grind, packing nine millimeters
    Nine lives like cheetahs, but your still in ???
    Drug dealers peep the shit that i kick
    Hustling, busting down zips making chips
    If we ain't making it we taking shit
    To the extreme hit the scenery with machine
    Gun, get the creamery and ice cream, nobody scream
    Nobody run, i come like point blank
    Mobbing the motherfucking bank, looking like benjamin
    Frank and itake
    So many penitentiary chances, to make
    Scrilla scratch niggas must have more stack in the safe
    I mean ???, nigga your safe is my safe
    And i'm gonna make sure that my safe ain't your safe
    By putting a .38 up in your face
    For running up in my place and shake the spot
    And not expect to get your ass shot
    Yeah, another one bites the dust, the shyster busts
    Caps at your house
    Matter fact, niggas don't like the yukmouth
    About to l-u, didn't they tell you
    I'm a youngster trying to have something like my
    Nigga l-q
    Ballin'

    Chorus

    Spice 1:
    It's the motherfucking east bay g with the hundred
    Clipper, savage thugnigga
    See i was born with the lust for money, chrome plated
    Triggers
    Mob style haulering 187 up in your face
    Put a gauge between your throat and tell you that
    Your out of place
    Motherfuckers don't be knowing we vicious and vicious
    To get the cheese
    More tickets to g's, cruises overseas
    Can't be no punk about the shit that we're in
    Got to be a soldier to the game or nigga you'll never
    Get your dividends
    Balling til i die, until i die i'll be a baller
    Let my riders do the dirt and i'll be the shotcaller
    Whatever i got to do for the lifestyle that'll pay
    Them forever
    Never slip stay on my toes nigga walk with the yellow
    Stripe
    But pull me back, because they cowards and shit
    I be the nigga that take your drama and put a twist
    In your the shit
    Caps get slapped with steel, hot slugs will be your
    Meal
    Fucking around with my money is just going to get
    Your ass killed

    Interlude

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