Chorus: Fat Pat
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Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
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Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
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A caller gettin laid tonight
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Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike
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I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
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But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
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A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
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[Yungstar]
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I'ma -- baller, I'ma twenty inch crawler
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Blades on Impala, diamond rottweiller
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I-10 hauler, not a leader not follower
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Break these boys off I'ma twenty inch crawler
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Bust a left, a right, I'm outta sight I'm thoed
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I'm bouncin off the road I'm in a modem with them foe dem
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Tiny tune -- hop out my big body form
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Chain with the chong, can't forget Moet along
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I'm hot, find me lookin good, diamonds against my wood
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Man it's understood -- got money in my hood
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I'm pushing big body can't stop me
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For the nine-eight got to sell a million copy
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I'ma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the sto'
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I'ma go real slow -- puffin indo out the do'
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I'ma lit the stash green, man I'm lookin clean
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Want remote control screens with ice bezeltynes
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Chorus
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[Fat Pat]
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Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
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Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
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Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
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Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
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In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
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Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
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Yo' eyes, get froze, as you see my low
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Candy-red, two-do', let my top down slow
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Hittin, my remote, sittin, in my shit
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Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
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It don't quit, as I get high
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from K.C. to H-Town, connectin SouthSide
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Now we worldwide, watch me highside
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Fat Pat blowin killa, can't be denied
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187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
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Blowin sticky green we flow through and above
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Chorus
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[Lil' Will]
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Sittin' Fat Down South, rollin Benz on blocks
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Mo' scrilla I got, signin with Shortstop
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And that's for real, so tell me how you feel
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to make a million dollars out my first record deal
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Shortstop -- puttin up your motherfuckin ear
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Really really don't give a fuck and I ain't drinkin on no beer
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Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
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Trunk hit fo' life baby it's SouthSide
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We on a fuckin mission Expedition Navigator
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That's how we be ridin, alligator suitcasin
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Puttin it in your face, and that's for real
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Shinin harder than the grill it's the player Lil' Will
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Down with the 2-Low, Yungstar be a thug
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So nigga nigga what? I'm down with Mo'Thugs
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Mo'Thugs an' da Bone, you know it's goin down
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Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound
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Chorus
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[Yungstar]
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I gots to get better man, it gots to move on
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Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone
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Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon
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Used to count my spoke, now these hoes count my inches
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Had to get older -- man it got colder
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I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder
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Licks in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan
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Boys don't understand virtual reality Caravan
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Double doors marble floors naked hoes around me
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Everytime I'm comin out, niggaz they wanna sign me
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Got the Lil' Will diamond grillers ??
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Blaze in the Benz and you can't forget the Den
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Boobie diamond Ruby's, I'm watchin on a movie
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Drop the top it's cotton, and you know I'm in a jacuzzi
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Bourbon and I'm swervin, man it's gettin hot
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My last name Lemmon, drive my tight'um off the lot, David Taylor
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Chorus
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[Hawk]
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I hit the highway
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Everything's my way, I par-le
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Everyday all day, ain't no way
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Boys can't stop as i slide through your neighborhood
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Chop chop chop, headed straight to the top
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I only play to win -- bout to close up shop
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Showstoppin dead end, pimp the pen once again
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Peep the message I send
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Take these levels that you devils can't comprehend
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Big bout it Benz -- as I floss through the south
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Big blue lens -- now whatcha talkin about?
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Close yo' mouth -- as I settle all scores
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Scream and shout -- my similes and metaphors
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Mansion doors -- I contstantly close
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All you hoes -- go and take off your clothes
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Lord knows -- ain't no time to play
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Commence to fuckin and-a suckin on the H.A.W.K.
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Chorus
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-----------------
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Wanna Be A Baller (Edit)
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LIL' TROY |