Nappy Roots - Ballin' On A Budget lyrics

[Ron Clutch] I'm just a, big bang baller on a budget Dank weed, smokin like "f** it" City slicker, country n***a, reppin straight from Kentucky Horseshoes and rabbit paws flossin, chicken closs for the lucky 40 flowers, Range Rovers, so they know the tailpipe's rusted [Big V] Country cookin, dog fightin, big-body ridin Chillin like a mug in Western Kentuck', showin love Summertime a funner time, smoke and gunner time Sippin Sprite and somethin dark, every f**in time [Scales] Uhh, okay watch how the po' folk ball Stomp through to mall in my overalls, the black Girbaud No pager, no cellphone, no access at all Just a pack of Dutch Masters and a pint of alcohol [Skinny DeVille] My hooptie, with a down crew like Boots said You don't +Perm+, +f** a+ fade let my hair swang back and forth like a germ Ill n***a with sick sh**, pull out this and stick it in this thick chick Baby mama drama, child support court and ain't worth the biscuit [Chorus: Skinny] Whattcha know about them backwood country folk? Whattcha know about the 'Lac bone hundred spoke? Jimmy Crack Corn; no fade, no comb Whattcha know about ballin on a budget bro? I'm just ballin on a budget yeaga (yeaga) I'm just ballin on a budget yeaga (yeaga) I'm just ballin on a budget yeaga (yeaga) It's the N the A the P-P-Y [B. Stille] Pull up, dead horns on the hood of my truck Kentucky Mud on my shoes and my socks Hungry Jack, pheffer tryna stuff some food in my gut Country cat in the cowboy hat I'm front to back put the house on that [Ron Clutch] Candied yams, chitlins, greens, and smoked country ham Chicken wings, cornbread, gran in the kitchen throwin down Eat good, tryna smoke somethin, run up on a pound Roll somethin, gut a vega tryna stuff it with a ounce [Big V] Hummin, mama cookin that mean it's Sunday mo'nin Half a pint of bootleg gin, it keep my goin Fat knot, (?) , bad daylight Cigars and happy bags, man we stay right [Scales] Aww man, we go back, like sweet pickle book clubs n***a that was good love, summertime bathin in a foot tub Damn that sh** hurt, and my jams in that shirt Atari 26, one stick, never worked [Chorus: Skinny] [B. Stille] Comin up in the woods, all I did was run barefoot Ne'er could comb my hair good My hairline grew like ten pound vines 'Tween my rib and my underware It's still a thin brown line, sh** [Big V] Chores did, and ma work out on the clothin line Cool as sh**, country boys out on the grind River views, picknic, big ticks covered the place Folks visit, and make it apparent to come back again [Scales] Look here, see I smoke like a fire and a drink like a fish That's it, ecstasy just ain't on my list No comb, no brush, no fade, no pick No sh**, no hair and you get no dick [B. Stille] Now we love them gals that love themselves, them southern belles Them Clydesdale Kentucky gals, with muddy tails We cut them gals, no veils, no wedding bells Trick on cheap hotels, KY gels and nothin else [Chorus: Skinny]