Artist: Spice 1 feat. Yukmouth & MC Breed (background)
Album: Tha Black Bossalini
Song: Ballin' *
Chorus:
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n***a, I die a paid n***a
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n***a, I die a paid n***a
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n***a, I die a paid n***a
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n***a, I die a paid n***a
Spice 1:
Some n***as be all up in my sh**, you need to quit
Sprinkle a motherf**er that will leave you split
Tore back a** out bringing you your hat
Flat broke, talking about f** that n***a 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 a** like punk b**hes in ditches
The gangsterism resulting in murderism
Bailing up in your hooptie at the gas station
You facing the k**er for real-a punk a** n***a
Where the scrilla
Jacking you for your sh**, taking your ends pull off
My mask
Hitting the corner, hopping up in my Benz with your
Cash
Mobbing I mash out, you a** out
Left you shot up in your seven-trey gla**house
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 n***a 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 n***as on the grind, packing nine millimeters
Nine lives like cheetahs, but your still in ???
Drug dealers peep the sh** that I kick
Hustling, busting down zips making chips
If we ain't making it we taking sh**
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 motherf**ing bank, looking like Benjamin
Frank and Itake
So many penitentiary chances, to make
Scrilla scratch n***as must have more stack in the safe
I mean ???, n***a 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 a** shot
Yeah, another one bites the dust, the shyster busts
Caps at your house
Matter fact, n***as don't like the Yukmouth
About to L-U, didn't they tell you
I'm a youngster trying to have something like my
n***a L-Q
Ballin'
Chorus
Spice 1:
It's the motherf**ing East Bay G with the hundred
Clipper, savage thugn***a
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
Motherf**ers 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 sh** that we're in
Got to be a soldier to the game or n***a 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 n***a walk with the yellow
Stripe
But pull me back, because they cowards and sh**
I be the n***a that take your drama and put a twist
In your the sh**
Caps get slapped with steel, hot slugs will be your
Meal
f**ing around with my money is just going to get
Your a** k**ed
Interlude