Chorus *(Phats Bossalini & Val Young)* 2x
That's the Ballers Feud
A thug changes, and love changes
That's the Ballers Feud
And best friends become strangers
Verse 1*(Yukmouth)*
Survey says...
You know some fake mutha f**as
I know some bustas too
This fake mutha f**a been causin rukus in my crew
Since '92
At first I thought he was cool like Dru
Always hollerin the Dangerous Crew, but if you only knew
Them n***as don't wanna hang wit you
Cuz of the thangs you do
Learn a thang or two
Talkin bad bout yo homies, two b**hes who juss be framin you
n***as thinkin bout hangin you, the game is true
Everywhere we go the punk hoo bangin you
Makes it kinda hard for me to swang wit you
That's why n***as only hang wit Dru, my pimpydoo
Folk-el, smoke out my Range Rove-el
What? What?
f** these broke-els
I hate it when n***as be playin wit yo mail, because they only end up
Smoked out
Broke as hell
Drivin buckets
I'm drivin luxury cars and plus sh**
Benz the Lexus the roughest to f** wit
So you wanna be P-I-M-P?
You need to get a b**h to f** you fo free
You payin G's fo p**y
*(Chorus)* 2x
Verse 2 *(Numskull)*
There's too many playas
Too many ballas
Too many hustlas
Too many k**as
Too many pimped out mutha f**as
So now we got the east coast and the west coast feudin to see who's
Cleanest
The cleanest mutha f**a is the richest and the genius
What if you stumbles, like buyin too many houses
Wit rims to put on yo sh**, too many furry couches
Who the mouses n***a, I think you knowin
Sheadin tears from b**hes who take yo sh** and keep goin
An don't come back, cuz they done s**ed you dick and yo cabbage
Got 20 hoes across America livin lavish
Hatin is juss a ho thang, yo, I gotta live like that
A b**h can roll wit me, or hit the track
You can talk about pimpin, you can talk about k**in
But when that sh** goes down, sound minds will be revealin
When you die and comeback, maybe you can try again and beat me
But don't try now, cuz you n***as can't see me
22, ready to hoo ride at moments notice
First to swang, hittin noses, eyes can't focus
Hocus pocus
Now 25 n***as on ya
Juss because you moved from California
Ballers Feud
*(Chorus)* 2x
Verse 3 *(Kastro)*
We went from loved ones, on the way up
To no love at all
Time to go though, so I don't give no f**s at all
Cross the game
Don't be playin, stoned get right
I shed blood wit this, and that can't be gone, overnight
This hate
Man, could be a cold mutha f**a
Close friends, close as cat scan, love 'em like my brother
Now I
See 'em dyin like a mutha f**a
Slow d**h, no breath
Man I love it like my mother
And that's some cold sh**, I'm on some mo' swole sh**
Listen quick
Fingers thick
Lady clit
Piss this sh**, on yo clit
n***as know I'm flossin K-Cash
Cash foldin
You want what I'm holdin, my wife an my life stolen
Worse enemy, authority
Police are all enemy
Richeously, this life fo' me ain't as bad as it seems to be
But still in all I love, all I love
Take my ten fingers, my ten toes, an mash outta love
Do it fo ya'll, all ya'll
My baby girl an God
This crazy world like a knife in the heart of my cause
Now half part of me hard
The other part of me scarred
d**h wit out health, but still a n***a prayin to God
*(Chorus)* 4x