Rick Rock - Ballaholic lyrics

[E-40] You know my.. my whole def-a-nation is to spit straight game You dig that? (Straight game) I I come from the game baby y'know I come from this motherf**er, you undersmell that? Aya, and you know, it's like this n***a Pimped-out all day you know Hillside Vallejo n***a You undersmell me? Been speakin the real for many moons My n***as in the 7-0-7 on down to Compton I'm in my FUBU drawers, she in her gown Cause if some cats tryin to have at me I sick the canine in the background I'm plannin on splittin my crown but it ain't gon' be too simple See I'm a baller, I got bars around the window Rottweilers, pits, aikietas, doberman pischers tanked up in the yard With a sign on the fence that reads "warning: beware of dog!" You play the frog if you feel froggish n***a leap I neglect my dogs, starvin, sometimes they don't eat Elroy speak to me about my triple-beam; officer, I got proof Po'-po', that's for weighin nuts and fruits Run with a whole bunch of rugged rowdy-a** knuckleheads, knahwhatImean? Big n***a, the size of a football team I wear these gla**es so that I can look like a square But if you ever see me in a fight with a bear Don't help me n***a, help the bear!! Me and my wales, we be coonin But see you the type of the n***a that'll go in the backroom And beep yo'self and act like yo' pager boomin Yeah man, cause a real tycoon Gon' take this sh** from the flo' to the moon Still Northstar ridin, six-oh strikin Switch up V-S cherry chokin the wrist and the pinkie But keep it loose around the neck and make sure hoes in check So if you gon' fill a n***a cup, fill it up with paper Cause we ballaholics b**h, ain't that quiet about this sh** If you're on it spend it like you mean it Uhh, I'll have you Ever since I was ankle low to a centipede's claw I always wanted to play pro-baseball Weepolization family, that's my favorite sport But instead I'm back and forth to jail and in and out of court BEOTCH! Serious about my rock shrine I don't give a f** how much courage juice you had n***a yo' mug don't mean like mine! I bring the noise like a cymbal {*CRASH*} I f** with 40 dem, make you stick your pistol out the window BEOTCH! Y'all oughta see me at the state fair Showin off in front of my broad; tryin to win my lil' nieces One of the biggest stuffed animal prizes there Nicknamed Charlie but my street name is Earl Ballaholic like Felix Mitchell nephew Lil' Darrell I know these streets like the Task Force know dope I am the streeets, my ghetto pa** can't be revoked Ten percent, I paid my tithes, forgive me for my sins Smoke an ounce of weed a day, maybe that's why I ain't go no ends You see, you n***as real truant mayne Runnin around here puttin a black eye in the game When we tryin to feed y'all somethin nutritional for the brain And nourish yo' game You see there's two type of n***as in this world: Those that eat and those that don't What type of n***a is you, you know? You see we got the tycoon status Big hogs, tryin to pile the money up out your trash You dig? You can call me Lawry's cause I'm seasoned I eat crevice, but not when it's bleeding Don't get me wrong, I love s** but I don't play that part I love Virginia, but not when the Virginia's tart Toss me good, and I might Dolce and Gabbana it Gave yo' a** some bread, and let you go buy up some sh** Callin yourself takin advantage of my riches I'm tryin to be nice to yo' a** I normally talk bad about you b**hes Invested to "Tha Hall of Game" buggin and bein notorious For slappin chickenheads upside they weave-a with my Nokia Mayday mayday, callin all patrol cars and units Be on the lookout for the Hillside managler, 40-Water the Ballaholic I'D RATHER FLY THAN RIDE AMTRAK When I'm in Dallas I f** with (?), and go hard black Make an opera singer wanna write some raps Papered up - like who? Like a fax BEOTCH I know you didn't say papered up like a fats (Yeah I did, yeah I did) Yeah, cause we do this sh** Up off the ground on a pitcher's mound Slidin, to the bad catcher, able to snatch ya Bat yo' G out the pocket Run it again with a n***a that's in the socket And it ain't my problem, if the ho hollerin We all about dollars, and collar-poppin n***a, BEOTCH!!! Baller, let me explain to you, a ballaholic n***a Undersmell this n***a If you got your ve-hi-cle in your baby's momma's name n***a youse a ballaholic, n***a you undersmell me? Please believe in a n***a Ballaholic n***a, you undersmell me? If you sittin on gold tennis shoe slippers n***a You undersmell me? Youse a ballaholic Don't ever get it twisted n***a, yeah If you put ten thousand down on some je-wels n***a Over at your house n***a in Frisco n***a And go back and get it the next day, youse a ballaholic You smell that n***a? Ballaholics n***a Ballaholics f** with Sic-Wid-It records n***a Ballaholics listen to that mob sh** n***a We stick to the rules and regulations of this motherf**in game You undersmell that? Please believe it, b**h-a** n***as IF YOUSE A BALLAHOLIC, n***a (scream it like you mean it) Youse a baller, please believe that That's what a ballaholic is n***a We ball til we have it all you undersmell that? Rick Rock, youse a ballaholic? My n***a, my n***a D-Wiz a ballaholic Don't ever get it twitted n***a My n***a Kaveo in the motherf**er with me you undersmell that? We some fools with it My n***a Steve Garvey, (??), you undersmell that? And that n***a Muggsy you know he's a f**in ballaholic Gold-tooth motherf**in pretty boy Floyd a** n***a I love you to d**h motherf**er, f** ya though f** ya f** ya f** ya I'm in this MOTHERfu*kER FOR LIFE! V.. A.. L-L-H-O, L-I-C, it's me E-Feeze-E L-I-C, it's me E-Feeze-E BALLAHOLIC BEOTCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!