King T - Big Ballin' (Playin' 2 Win) lyrics

[Intro: King Tee] Ha, on the lay back [Verse 1: King Tee] Straight hustlin' going on, now, let's begin The master of the ceremony just walked in With his little homies and the fifth of Hin' No hatin' in my game cause I'm playin' to win Now, n***as need to know I've been a G since six Breakin' fools off when they step up in my mix Catch a young n***a with some brand new kids Many comin' up out of him, holdin' his lips Just a real young n***a but I threw them like spinks Blew them black Gulf hats and turned to your slings Moved up the Leather Coat got my b**h wearin' wings Sittin' in the Coupe` - smokin' pounds a day Just because I got chips I remained the same n***as recognize the real when I'm shootin' my game A bullet in your chest won't be no strange But if I put it in your brain it won't be no pain Ballin' out of contral and I can never get choked I got a loaded Chrome .45 that I tote Asked any hustler: T be goin' for broke? Undercover with the locs and them luxury spoke But, when it's time to floss I hit the safe for some ends Choose between the Caddi' or the Lexus or the Benz I told you at the top, now, I tell you again Straight hustlin' going on, let games begin Let's get down [Hook: RC] It's that's how'd you can't deny Everything we do is fly I'm big ballin'- playin to Win Just the players stayin' true Blowin' Chronic smoke at you Everything is ballin' [Verse 2: King Tee] Soon as I pull the Lex-o out the garage Player haters run to get the f** out of the Dodge I tried to shoot to gain but they tried to act hard They chose is live small while I gots to live large Don't tell these hoes that I'm broke, n***a please I never leave my crib without at least three Gs Lookin' like a n***a just shift twenty ki's Keep myself distant from tiks and flees Keep type of tire bald head like Shenay f** tellin, Condo Rolex is parvay King Tee is the n***a that them punks can't fade They're tryin' change each hood as I'm tryin' to stay paid (*female laughter*) I treat the Benz like the old girl friend Hook that ho up and let my n***as take a spin You said you got the chronic, I break out the skin Hustlin' going on and I'm playin' to win Get down [Hook: RC w/ variations] Got my whole crew comin' down Sippin' Mo' and dodgin' clowns I'm big ballin' Awww yeah, just a hustler playin' true Blowin' Chronic smoke at you Everything is ballin' [Verse 3: King Tee] Straight fact, I push up on the mic with more heat Warning mothaf**ers that we can't be beat From Compton, on up to east Long Beach That n***a King Tee makes the drive-by complete (*Gun Shot*) I know you've been told, we got the Westcoast sold I know you've been taught, we can't be caught So if you're lookin' for them T's on the westside trippin' Probably in the Rag '64 just dippin' The ave is so hot, the CD keep skippin' While the little homies on the block checkin' the grip So come on by, and throw your set real high n***as get smoked tryin' to f** with my supply And I supply, what you can't go by That westcoast gangster funk, it won't die n***as might lyin' but I tell you the truth The Hup City is in the house, settin' fire to the roof Let's get down [Hook: RC w/ minor variations] Yes, that true, you can't deny Everything we do is fly I'm big ballin'- yeah, oooh Just the players stayin' true Real with Chronic smoke and you Everything is ballin' Everything is been ballin' [Outro: RC] Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'