We Ballin' - Lyrics - M.A.D.E. - Memphis Bleek

Title: We Ballin'
Album: M.A.D.E.
Artist: Memphis Bleek
Composer(s): Guy Obress, Scott Spencer Storch, Christopher Ries, Malik Deshawn Cox

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Yeah, yanahmean?
Just some for all my niggas in the hood
They always ask me, what I got to say to the youths and
Yanahmean, when I do these interviews

Just wanna let 'em know we ballin'
You gotta strap up 'cause niggas'll test you
Whenever you feel that pressure
You let 'em know everyday of your life is, check it

For real we still killin' 'em and each one of 'em
You know the flow like caine, look it's numbin' 'em
Look what I done to them, they want run wit 'em
I let 'em stay few nights but then I'm done wit 'em

Mami you rollin', get your clothin'
You know one sight of the mansion will get 'em open
I back out my garage wit new Ferrari
'Cause I been pimpin' this game since Atari

You hardly, ever see me loving a hoe
I tell a bitch, I'm in love wit my doe
'Cause I'm pimping and, niggas is bitchin' and
We was the pharmacy, now you want prescriptions

Think I'm slippin', like I don't grip again
Go 'head trip it ain't nothing to drop a clip again
Got my dawgs to catch me when I'm fallin'
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Nigga we ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Nigga we ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Yeah, I take a sip of that Henny, I load that tec up
I hit the block wit the medicine give 'em check ups
You see I'm vest up, I'm ballin' at war
These niggas wanna see me off, they don't wanna see me on but

Proof I'm ballin', I put a eighth
Of that white down in my hood, I can finish it by the mornin'
Re-up by noon, re-kick at night
Half these dudes doing bids couldn't live my life

And you youngn's in the hood wanna be like P
'Cause every new gat I cop it begin wit a P
Like, P-89 you niggas', P-92 shit
You know how dudes, "This Proof ain't for that bullshit"
And these hoes wanna roll wit a G
But once I hit 'em wit that G, I have totin' the P 'cause

Nigga we ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Nigga we ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Yo, I hear 'em callin' and every city I travel
Hoes get at 'em when they see a nigga ballin'
Keep the steel wit me, couple of killas from the hood
Who blew bail but still they keep it real wit me

We ride out and we find out where
Your little address and blow out your hideout, yeah
Who want war? Hoes, they tellin' me, "E's you ain't right"
Like this year I'm gon go South Pole

This for them haters think I'm slippin', I ain't
When I find 'em hiding I tie 'em, they be missin' like weight
But wait, 'lil nigga don't be missin' my point
I don't miss when I point, niggas get killed off point

And you see, I school a little you, forfeit the game
I was young, just like 'em, Jay taught me the same
But I see he hard headed, told 'em stay in his lane
'Cause them OG's home and they layin' wit K's 'cause

Nigga we ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Nigga we ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Nigga, pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'

Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and

Pass the weed and Hennessey, I hear it callin'
We ballin', ready for war and

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Cash Money Roll - Lyrics - B.G.

Title: Cash Money Roll
Artist: B.G.
Composer(s): Christopher N Dorsey, Mannie Fresh

Lyric:
Nigga we don't drop albums, we drop classics

I ain't even gotta tell you how Cash Money Roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
'Cause we do shows all seven days of the week
Top of the line rides flying up and down the street

Any kind of car C.M.B boys could claim it
(Cash Money Boys)
Lexus's, Benz's, and Truck Motor Bikes you name it
Rollin' all the time gotta get my shine on
Right here got the nine and in my left the PrimeCo Phone

Rap dues I done paid it
I'm on a level that these niggaz can't fade it
Nigga I been hustlin' since twelve I done made it
Rappin' off nuthin' but Mannie Beats
(Mannie Fresh)

He the greatest, but wait hold up, you ain't heard the latest
Million dollar contract a 150 pages, not minimum
We makin' maximum wages
Let me tell you about bayou classic how we played it

We hit Canal so deep click so strong
(Canal Street)
Every vehicle we rode in was on chrome
The Hummer sound had 'em jumpin' in the Super Dome

We got so much money we gave the bank a credit loan
We go shopping and spend 50 G's at the mall
But that hurt 'cause cash money go still ball
Until we fall

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I'm a baller, drive cars with big rims
Leather seats, sound bumpin' all in your ears
The dress code T-shirts, Ree's and Bauds
(Reebok Soldiers, Girbauds)
It's 98, my money stack it don't fold

I'm a livin' legend, havin' fire weed sessions
Hide your bitch 'cause I will have in my possession
I'm top notch, it ain't no secret I'm hot
You can spot, my Rolex watch from down the block

I don't talk shit if I ain't able to prove it
My wrist all bitch, especially in the dark bitch
I'm a young nigga, tru 2 da game nigga, fog
And play'n with a little change nigga, fog

Fuck with me I put a little over your brain
But fuck that I ride and let my chopper rang nigga
Since 97 I got a lil' thicker and taller
Chancin' 6 figgaz, I'm the Cash Money Baller

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

Say B, I heard Cap had another baby
(Baby)
It's a lil' girl, pop the bottle let's celebrate
It's your second it's all good lay it down nigga
You hoe drove mutha fucker lay down nigga

You know I got a lil' Hot Girl to be
That's my world dawg she lookin' just like me
I'm straight out all the old money from my old habit
I'm spended that on ear rings with 10 karats

I got my lil' girl a Lexus for when she grow up
I flying from Tennessee to Texas trying to blow up
I need 10 G's a show for me to show up
And six weeks for me and my click to post up

We shining, wearing Rolex's that winding
Stacking money for days Nigga, big timing
Ducking hoes, shot callin', and ballin'
Keepin' it real, with my back against the wall'n

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control
I ain't even gotta tell you we ballin' outta control

I ain't even gotta tell you how cash money roll
'Cause it ain't no secret nigga we ballin' outta control

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3d07e1f22f515ce25c8ea92c47ac6c8b

Money Good - Lyrics - Buck Tha World - Young Buck

Title: Money Good
Album: Buck Tha World
Artist: Young Buck
Composer(s): David Brown, Lamarquis Jefferson, Craig Love, L Nix, Jonathan H Smith

Lyric:
G-Unit
Aiyyo, if you got more than a hundred dollars in your pocket
Aiyyo, make some noise in this ****
'Cause I'm gettin' money like a ****, y'all

Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now
Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now

Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now
Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now

26's got me big, big wheelin'
Money over ****, I'ma get me a million
Thangs done changed, I'm hotter than a flame
So it's no time for me to beef with Jada, Joe or Game

Diamonds in my chain, a Chevy in my yard
And a baby blue Phantom that I keep in the garage
Come here, let me talk to you, show you what my grill 'bout
Ice like Paul Wall but I can't take mine out

Let's play the game 'Big bank take lil' bank'
Flood it like Katrina, make sure that your ship sank
You would think money's growin' on trees
The way your boy run through a couple hundred G's

Fresh white tee 'bout to get my hustle on
I ain't goin' to the club till all my work gone
I'm leanin' on the leather and grippin' on the wood
And I can build whatever, you know my money good, yeah

I can get money, I be in the hood
I be stackin' paper like a real **** should
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I be pimpin' hard and I got them ****
You ain't gotta ask me, you already know
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I got my mind on my money, my money on my mind
I'm good in the hood so you know I'm gon' shine
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some

I'm sellin' everythang and savin' every dime
I'm good in the hood so you know I'm gon' shine
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some

Fifty for the watch, a hundred for the bracelet
I'm headed to the top, I can damn near taste it
I represent my block and give away the ones
The hustle never stops, so my job is never done

So tell me what it costs and show me who the boss
Put your money where your mouth is, I'ma break him off
If you wanna know the reason why I act like that
I can fit a half a mil' in this Louie backpack, yeah

I can get money, I be in the hood
I be stackin' paper like a real **** should
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I be pimpin' hard and I got them ****
You ain't gotta ask me, you already know
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

Go and do your thang, just don't get caught
Let your money talk, I let my money talk for me
If shorty wanna hate, then tell the **** to walk
Let your money talk, I let my money talk for me

Call me what you want but you can't call me broke
'Cause gettin' big bags of money's all we know
Marble floors in the projects, ghetto millionaire
All this Gucci in my closet, I don't know what to wear

Bentley outside by the ice cream truck
Just ride through the hood, ask 'em if they seen Buck
Thought I wouldn't make it but look at me now
That's why I painted the Benz the same color as Cristal

I can get money, I be in the hood
I be stackin' paper like a real **** should
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I be pimpin' hard and I got them ****
You ain't gotta ask me, you already know
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

Get money, hey, get money
Get money, hey, get money

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bf1ffdd795af0bab111a152f6f657ddc

Still Ballin (Nitty Remix) - Lyrics - Best of 2Pac-Part 2:Life - 2pac

Title: Still Ballin (Nitty Remix)
Album: Best of 2Pac-Part 2:Life
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Johnny Jackson, Ricardo Brown, Francisco Pimentel, Tupac Shakur, Maurice Young

Lyric:
Straight muthafuckin' ballin'
Part two, still ballin'
Westside

Now ever since a nigga was a seed
Only thing promised to me was the penitentiary
Still ballin', ridin' on these niggaz 'cause they lame
In a 61' Chevy still heavy in this game
Can you feel me?

Blame it on my mama, I'm a thug nigga
Up before the sunrise, quicker than the drug dealers
Tell me if it's on, nigga, then we first to bomb
Bust on these bitch made niggaz hit em' up
Westside

Ain't nobody love me as a broke nigga
Finger on the trigger, Lord, forgive me if I smoke
I love my female strapped, love fuckin' from the back
I get my currency in stacks, California's where I'm at
Ride

Pass by, while these niggaz wonder why
I got shot but didn't die, let em' see who's next to try
Did I cry, hell nah, nigga not a tear shed
For all my homies in the pen, many peers dead
Nigga, still ballin'

Still ballin' until the day I die
(Still ballin', until I die)
You can bring your crew
(You can bring your crew)
But we remain true
(Yeah)

Muthafuckers still ballin'
(I be ballin')
Niggaz wonder why
(They wonder why)
You can bring your crew, but we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin'

Now if you kneel and pray, you hope the Lord understand
When he's gone, the Father become a dangerous man
(A dangerous man)
Ain't crazy or deranged, I'm sad
(I'm sad)

But when these kids go to spray him
Boy, I don't be playin'
(I don't be playin')
With clientele and your rhyme sells
Question is, will you fuckin' niggaz ride for real?
Huh? Bitch nigga, this is G rated

Plus, your homeboy won't make your street game foogazy
I'm elevated to the top of this shit
Done fucked around and put me and Tupac on this bitch
And you can tell 'em thug life was the reason for this
And I'll ride for any nigga who believe in this shit

Still ballin', until the day I die
You can bring your crew, but we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin', niggaz wonder why
You can bring your crew, but we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin'

Now everybody wanna see us dead
Two murdered on the front page, shot to death, bullets to the head
Niggaz holla out my name and it's similar to rain
Muthafuckers know I'm comin' so they runnin to they graves
Watch

Swoop down with my nigga from the pound
'Cause trick don't give a fuck when you coward niggaz now
Blast, keep pumpin' ain't worried bout nuttin'
Bustas thought we was frontin' so we load and keep dumpin'
Still ballin'

I'm still ballin' until the day I die
(Still ballin', until I die)
You can bring your crew
(You can bring your crew)
But we remain true
(Yeah)

Muthafuckers still ballin'
(I be ballin')
Niggaz wonder why
(They wonder why)
You can bring your crew, but we remain true

Muthafuckers still ballin'
Still ballin', until the day I die
(Still ballin')
You can bring your crew, but we remain true

Muthafuckers still ballin', niggaz wonder why
You can bring your crew
(Tell 'em)
But we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin' 'til the day I die

Thug life

Still ballin'
Muthafuckers still ballin'
Straight muthafuckin' ballin'

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6b94cb91e43307a2377898a3cbbf65cb

Still Ballin - Lyrics - Better Dayz - 2pac

Title: Still Ballin
Album: Better Dayz
Artist: 2pac
Composer(s): Johnny Jackson, Ricardo Brown, Francisco Pimentel, Tupac Shakur, Maurice Young

Lyric:
Straight muthafuckin' ballin'
Part two, still ballin'
Westside

Now ever since a nigga was a seed
Only thing promised to me was the penitentiary
Still ballin', ridin' on these niggaz 'cause they lame
In a 61' Chevy still heavy in this game
Can you feel me?

Blame it on my mama, I'm a thug nigga
Up before the sunrise, quicker than the drug dealers
Tell me if it's on, nigga, then we first to bomb
Bust on these bitch made niggaz hit em' up
Westside

Ain't nobody love me as a broke nigga
Finger on the trigger, Lord, forgive me if I smoke
I love my female strapped, love fuckin' from the back
I get my currency in stacks, California's where I'm at
Ride

Pass by, while these niggaz wonder why
I got shot but didn't die, let em' see who's next to try
Did I cry, hell nah, nigga not a tear shed
For all my homies in the pen, many peers dead
Nigga, still ballin'

Still ballin' until the day I die
(Still ballin', until I die)
You can bring your crew
(You can bring your crew)
But we remain true
(Yeah)

Muthafuckers still ballin'
(I be ballin')
Niggaz wonder why
(They wonder why)
You can bring your crew, but we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin'

Now if you kneel and pray, you hope the Lord understand
When he's gone, the Father become a dangerous man
(A dangerous man)
Ain't crazy or deranged, I'm sad
(I'm sad)

But when these kids go to spray him
Boy, I don't be playin'
(I don't be playin')
With clientele and your rhyme sells
Question is, will you fuckin' niggaz ride for real?
Huh? Bitch nigga, this is G rated

Plus, your homeboy won't make your street game foogazy
I'm elevated to the top of this shit
Done fucked around and put me and Tupac on this bitch
And you can tell 'em thug life was the reason for this
And I'll ride for any nigga who believe in this shit

Still ballin', until the day I die
You can bring your crew, but we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin', niggaz wonder why
You can bring your crew, but we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin'

Now everybody wanna see us dead
Two murdered on the front page, shot to death, bullets to the head
Niggaz holla out my name and it's similar to rain
Muthafuckers know I'm comin' so they runnin to they graves
Watch

Swoop down with my nigga from the pound
'Cause trick don't give a fuck when you coward niggaz now
Blast, keep pumpin' ain't worried bout nuttin'
Bustas thought we was frontin' so we load and keep dumpin'
Still ballin'

I'm still ballin' until the day I die
(Still ballin', until I die)
You can bring your crew
(You can bring your crew)
But we remain true
(Yeah)

Muthafuckers still ballin'
(I be ballin')
Niggaz wonder why
(They wonder why)
You can bring your crew, but we remain true

Muthafuckers still ballin'
Still ballin', until the day I die
(Still ballin')
You can bring your crew, but we remain true

Muthafuckers still ballin', niggaz wonder why
You can bring your crew
(Tell 'em)
But we remain true
Muthafuckers still ballin' 'til the day I die

Thug life

Still ballin'
Muthafuckers still ballin'
Straight muthafuckin' ballin'

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50d4be59dff995fcbb2d3c757192e132

Girls, Cash, Cars - Lyrics - Killa Season - Cam'Ron

Title: Girls, Cash, Cars
Album: Killa Season
Artist: Cam'Ron
Composer(s): Camron Giles, Rick Wakeman

Lyric:
Trumpets please
I wanna welcome everybody to
Killa season

Dip, dip, dip
Come and fuck with the set
Dip, dip, dip
Come and fuck with the set

They tried to play us
But they can't fade us
A bunch of haters
But we the greatest

That mighty dip
Fuckin' set
Show a G respect, my weed connect
Got it growing like Chia Pets

So, come and deal wit the kids
We ballin', big baby

You know I'm strapped for the drama
Afghan to Harlem, clap his Mama
Homeboy, don't ask for the ganja
No way, hey, I relax in a sauna

Lay back, lay back, where the cake at?
ASAP, ASAP, I replay that
They wack, he not, we hot
We got 3 glocks, right where they lay at

Got what's left to twist
Diamonds surround my wrist
Y'all all fiends, Spalding couldn't bounce like this

Yo yo, don't fuck with the po-po
Oh, no, I'm 'bout that dough doe
Juelz, he fuck with the cocoa
Niggaz going loco, that's a no-no

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, it's dipest
Oh no, row boats, coke float sand hit decks

So, come and deal wit the kids
We ballin', big baby

Flashin' bras
The world is ours
Them classic cars plus girls, cash and cars
Cash and cars, girls, cash and cars
Girls, cash, cars, girls, cash and cars, cash and cars, cars

So, come and deal wit the kids
We ballin', big baby

Y'all really wanna get this started?
We all can act retarded
Ya heart has been darted
Bombarded, departed

Ma, ya pussy stink
It been underseas
Here's a Douche bag
Hot rag, summers eve

Yes, a hot bath, run, run, run it, please
You hummin' G's?
Through ya dungarees
Don't maneuver there
Here's a souvenir

Washing set, kit
Bitch, for ya pubic hairs
Beat it, ain't no losers here
Ma, tryna move up here

Send my dick down there
That's with scuba gear
And she eat out
While she takin' deep cock

Eaves drop, need not, cam walker needs not
And my game's so tight
And my aim's so right
In a range all white
Entertain more dykes
All they say all night is

But 'cha brain, maayne
Will be like my chain on ice
But my chain, maaayne
It look like a rainbow sight

So, come and deal wit the kids
We ballin', big baby

Flashin' bras
The world is ours
Them classic cars plus girls, cash and cars
Cash and cars, girls, cash and cars
Girls, cash, cars, girls, cash and cars, cash and cars, cars

So, come and deal wit the kids
We ballin', big baby

Dip, dip, dip
Come and fuck with the set
Dip, dip, dip
Come and fuck with the set

Dip, dip, dip
Come and fuck with the set
Dip, dip, dip
Come and fuck with the set

So, come and deal wit the kids
We ballin', big baby

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707bc54c14f778cbbe6d88160d0d1549

Ballin Out Of Control - Lyrics - Instructions - Jermaine Dupri

Title: Ballin Out Of Control
Album: Instructions
Artist: Jermaine Dupri
Composer(s): Rahman Griffin, Nathaniel Hale, Jermaine Dupri, Bryan Michael Cox

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Chiti chiti, bang bang, Don Chi Chi, that's me
Rollin' with you nigga Nate D
You know these niggas straight bang, big game D
Ballin' with the 21st street

Chiti chiti, bang bang, Don Chi Chi, that's me
Still makin' tight ass beats, that's right
I'm rollin' in my brome, I stay sweet
Ain't nobody ballin' like me

It goes, mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the biggest baller of all
I got a 700, a Bentley and a Magine
The girls just die when I'm ridin' past

Live life like I'm sellin' pies
Arabian with two or three wives
Two or three houses to hide
Ten cars parked outside
And they all got bodies that's wide

Follow me as the Leer jet flies over Crimson Tides
Four bedroom duplex in the sky
Nicknamed Lottery 'cuz I don't stop spendin'
When the wheels stop, the chrome keep spinnin'

Like the six moon walkin', shit I ain't talkin'
I'm straight livin' it, it's a wonder I ain't shiverin'
I'm so frozen and you've been chosen
To roll with me and Nate D O double G, sing

It's five o'clock in the mornin'
I've already downed five, I've already downed five Mo's
See you around my block on the weekend
All we do is chase bad, all we do is chase bad hoes

Ask me, "What we did was crime?"
If not then I just say no, then I just say no
Three girls a date, that's my limit
We ballin' outta control, we ballin' outta control

Now whether you like me or not, whenever I drop
You know I give you number one hits, platinum hot
It's so much clarity in my rocks, I'm thinkin' like
It's gotta be somebody greater, maybe it's not

'Cuz I flow for those who get that dough
Hits for every chick with a size C tits
See it's like this, I don't mind wavin' at you kids
But I can't manage to raise my wrist

Jewels so heavy, y'all fools ain't ready
My twenty two shot the streets into confetti
Move like Andretti, red linin'
Whatever city I'm in, I'm headlinin'

At five a.m., I'm still lookin for Mo'
Still gettin' crunk, still lettin' it flow
Bar outta Cris', now I'm drinkin' Mo'
Stomach upset, I feel like I'm about to let it go

It's five o'clock in the mornin'
Got my pedal to the flow, got my pedal to the flow
It's time I test my 600
Wonder how fast this bitch go, wonder how fast this bitch go

Three girls and two of 'em sleepin'
One got her hands on my bow, one got her hands on my bow
Sun's comin up, we still drinkin'
We ballin' outta control, really ballin' outta control

Dance, everybody
And everybody just clap your hands, let me see y'all
Dance, everybody
Everybody just clap your hands, let me see y'all

Dance, everybody
And everybody just clap your hands, let me see y'all
Dance, everybody
Everybody just clap your hands

Chiti chiti, bang bang, Don Chi Chi
Rollin' with you nigga Nate D
You know these niggas straight bang, big game D
Ballin' with the 21st street

Chiti chiti, bang bang, Don Chi Chi
Still makin' tight ass beats
I'm rollin' in my brome, I stay sweet
Ain't nobody ballin' like me

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9f60d99a2a2118bee4f9b408f70dd572

I'M Ballin' Man - Lyrics - Drama

Title: I'M Ballin' Man
Artist: Drama
Composer(s): Alphonso Jordan, Lorenzo Jordan, T Cook, Demetrius, L. Stewart

Lyric:
Raheem presents Drama, tight 2 motherfucking Def
Get at they ass, boy

Ice on my wrist, I'm ballin' man
Hoes on my dick, I'm ballin' man
Cases of Crystal, I'm ballin' man
Shoes of crocodile, I'm ballin' man

House on the lake, I'm ballin' man
Tight 2 Def straight pushing weight, I'm ballin' man
Dubs on the Lex', I'm ballin' man
Cashing eight figure checks, I'm ballin' man

Yo, yo, yo, yo drama, how you doing it?

Me and my niggas, we riding dirty from Charleston to Texas
Bowling ball paint job, with D's on the Lex
Beamers and Cadillacs, optimos and fat sacks
We trained for combat, you wrong, then we attack

We ride like Desperado on the spokes goldened out
Keep cheese in the pockets
And keep our distance from cop blockers
AK on the front seat for any drama, I may meet

My pager off killing hoes, providing them B's and Vouges
Clientelle getting bigger, while calculating money figures
More realer than Rockafeller, more cheese than Donald Trump
Niggas they hear me, they wanna kill me like JFK

Why, 'cause I ride tight, on? Out of sight
It might be the hoes
Or could it be that I ride on Vogues?
My trunk is filled with speakers
I know damn well you hear me

Got a torch, you see me
Hundred spokes that beaming
Niggas plotting they haters
And busters they wanna be me

In the club I'm balling bitch, now show me love
Bossalinie, Versace shoes, with some Gator boots
Dom Perignon, it's on now through the early morn'
Fuck a hobby man, 'cause balling be my occupation

Playa hating ass nigga, can't take the temptation
Wanna rush me, then bust me, then leave me fucked in the game
All because I drained his bitch, now partners use his name
See the spokes, and how the gleaming make 'em wanna scheme

85 Chevy Caprice off on some Dayne-Daynes
Paint job, be clocking mills, with some blowed brains
20 and bubble, gone buy the Reeboks, now them some shoes
With the 9 up on the seat, thats where its supposed to be

For them bustas and them haters that wanna touch a G
Put it down and moved on up too like me George Jefferson
Fuck the law, and fuck the pen, because I'm ballin' man
Loved the living, I'm dedicated all to the game, I'm ballin' man

When I'm heated in the club, around 12 o'clock
All eyes on a playa, 'cause I'll blow up the spot
You can hate, we blowing clouts in the V.I.P.
Ballers sport rims, like they stars of films

My moneys too unfadable for them too tight crews
And tear da roof off this bitch with this Tight 2 Def shit
Nigga knocking, hoe jocking, 'cause this shit don't quit
In the club V.I.P. til' the early morning

Cases of Crystal, even Dom Perignon
A McGyver Road nigga, so you know I don't play
But if it come down to it, I got my K
Fuck the flexing, 'cause we ballin', shot callin' and stacking

And if it come down to the gunplay
Tight 2 Def ain't lacking
Your money ain't long enough for me, so hoe don't talk
'Cause down here in Atlanta nigga, we walk the walk
I say it loud and clear, I'm ballin' man

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5fb03b3fcbb2678e886a9b3f6a39f1d7

I'M Ballin - Lyrics - Trill - Bun B

Title: I'M Ballin
Album: Trill
Artist: Bun B
Composer(s): Zak Wallace, Phalon Alexander, Bernard Freeman

Lyric:
Alright, alright, alright
Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay
Alright, alright
Alright, alright, alright
Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay
Alright, alright

It's Bun B and Jazze Phizzle, Phizzle
It's Bun B and Phizzle, Phizzle, Phizzle
It's Bun B and Jazze Phizzle, Phizzle
Bun B, UGK sho nuff ladies and gentlemen

Got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

I said, I got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

Before I jump up out my silk sheets, and hop off in the shower
It's already understood, I got the money and the power
I'ma grab the baby powder, under shirt and white tee
My Dickies, fitted cap and white one's that's me

A hundred karats worth of rocks, courtesy of Johnny
I roll a couple blunts, and load up the Tommy
Ready to get my stunt on, my pockets on swoll
Now all I gotta do, is see which car I'm finna roll

Now I can take the Benz, or I can take the Rover
And if I pull the Bentley Coupe out, then it's over
But I'ma keep it OG, and pull out the slab
So I can sit on buck, and have some wood grain to grab

Last but not least, before I pull out on the scene
You know I gotta po' me up, my oily cup of lean
I've been stacking all this green, now it's time for some spending
I've been cool about this grinding, but ain't no mo' pretending

Got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

I said, I got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

Now if you see me in the shopping center, walking down the hall
It's already understood, that I'm buying out the mall
I got six homies with me, and at least two freaks
Man we looking for the Louis, and the Gucci boutiques, okay

I keep the flyest footwear, and the newest Locs
And if I get somethin' for me, I'm getting somethin' for my folks
'Cause we all gon be fitted up, we all popping tags
We all walking out of this mall, with big bags

And I ain't gotta brag, you can see it for yourself
I got ballers on my right side, and ballers on my left
We ain't from the same hoods, but it's all to the good
We bout getting this money, like some real G's should

And we ain't knocking nobody's hustle, why plex man
You only hate on yourself, when you hating on the next man
You can't be like Bun B, so why try to
Get your own bread, and you can ball just like I do

Got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

I said, I got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

Before I pull up to the valet, and hop out of the car
It's already understood, that we buying out the bar
It's a line around the corner, people trying to get inside
But a playa like myself, is finna walk right by it

Now, move the velvet rope, and keep the scanner
You don't wanna see us angry, like we David Banner
2000 and 5, Tony Montana haters
Ain't no need for you to knock us, just congratulate us

We done made it out the ghetto, by staying on the grind
We focused on the paper chase, with money on our mind
Now we just wanna shine, buy some bottles and pop 'em
So if you see niggaz out there, playa hating then stop 'em

'Cause we don't really wanna have, to bust a motherfucker's head
We just wanna holla at bad bitches, and spend this bread
We buying everybody drinks, and making it rain
'Cause I'ma rep, like a motherfucking underground king

Got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

I said, I got me some bread, made some paper
Costly fabrics, minks and gators bitch I'm ballin'
Diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good
Got diamonds on my chest, keep me looking good

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76b4f173400805fd04ebf04c86532c95

We Don'T Give A Fuck - Lyrics - The Naked Truth - Lil' Kim

Title: We Don'T Give A Fuck
Album: The Naked Truth
Artist: Lil' Kim
Composer(s): K Jones, D Lockings, Bernard James Freeman, T Lovelace, Carl Mitchell

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

I Brooklyn Bounce nigga, in Dirty South down to the ATL
Rep B.I.G. to death, betta watch what come out ya breath
We thuggin', thuggin', we thuggin', honey girl Queen B double E-E
I'm heatin' up in oven, no bitch is comin' like me

We get by, we get crunk, we spit fire, we got pumps
We get high, we get drunk, we got heat for y'all punks
Can't find you layin', my fam is not playin'
Gotta get that money, that money, that money, money

You don't want no problems man, none if you get outta lane
We comin' like the Taliban, poppin' like a collar man
Cowards want to violate, then we got to demonstrate
You faggot niggaz tellin', when we see you we be yellin'

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

Bitch I been trill ever since the day I came out my mommas cock
Come on down to that Dirty South, you gon' see I got it locked
I can go on any block and on any hood and on any town
Runnin' deep with money and jewelery and holdin' myself down

Connected to every heavy nigga across the U.S
My cocaine is the whitest and my diamonds are the bluest
My city is the trillest and my niggaz are the truest
Got everything to gain and nothing to lose, so let's do this

We load 'em up, cock 'em back, let 'em go and knock 'em off
Cut off all his cake, rocks, and eggs, this nigga block 'em off
It's B U N for U G K, straight up out that B A T
Holdin' it down for K I M, reppin' for Pimp C, let's see 'em bitch

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

Big cars, big trucks, big nuts when it comin' up off the dust
Think it's funny 'til he comin' up out the club
Gonna getcha money when I'm comin' up out the cut
If I catch a nigga slippin', I'ma tell a nigga know that shit

Then I snatch that chain
When he leave his friends, I'ma get him out his ends
And his Benz, make him cash that train
Come out the dark and get the lights on, turn together, get it up

Take his watch, take his bracelet, take his dust, take his truck
I can't help it to get itchy if I see the nigga ballin'
Nigga yes y'all then I gotta get a piece of that
Steady figure with the Jacob in the bezel with charm

Well, come over hear I got a little heat for that
AK-47 and the Desert Eagle with a sawed-off pump
Got a what, an E-95 with leather grip
And a Mac-11 comin' out the trunk

Got what, a black ski mask and leather gloves
And duct tape I can get what I want
Got what, when the Queen and the Twist ride on them bitches
We don't give a fuck

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

Take that nigga chain, we don't give a fuck
Hit that nigga up, we don't give a fuck
Jack that nigga truck, we don't give a fuck
We don't give a fuck, he ain't down with us

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1b9da2e81ca0e3df601ad9e5fa2e8c85

Yeh Suh! - Lyrics - Tha Smokin' Nephew - Baby Bash

Title: Yeh Suh!
Album: Tha Smokin' Nephew
Artist: Baby Bash
Composer(s): Nathan Perez, Ronald Ray Bryant, Chad Roussel

Lyric:
We deep
(Yeh suh)
We creep
(Yeh suh)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

It's my arrival and my survival
I'm skyin' higher then Messiah and his Bible
Watch for that rifle watch for that psycho
Yo breezy chosen and she lookin' kinda tight though

Now if you talk that talk better walk that walk
Don't let this pretty face fool ya
'Coz I'm a savage like a Dallas Maverick
Got nephews that'll do ya

Snatch that jeerzy off your skeleton with the quickness
And if it's wall ta wall betta gaurd your jaw we handlin' bidness
Servin' this game like tennis we up in this mean muggin'
Crackin' the fuck up at them squares dream thuggin'

Blowin' our trees cousin it gets sticky in the pain
Tricky in the tank and don't miss me wit that dank
500 on the street equals 65 G's
In that Jordan briefcase like that boy from the piz

Bigger then show biz
So I'm stayin focused
When they holla at the club
How much them blows is?

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

I remember when my thugs showed me how ta slang heat
Hollerin' fixin ta talk man we gonna bring beat
Now guess what I'm goin' through and this what I stand fo
Thuggin' ain't that legal but I'm doin' what I can boy

But I sound small as I'm is I'm raw as I'm is
I pop n lift mic's while I bench press heads
Down is all in it see niggas ballin' it
Ball aighty tellin' sad story we know why I got it

Niggas bad at the game they ain't showin no love
That's cold nigga deal with it show 'em you thug
Havin' Partnah's in prision and a few dead friends
Was the streets way of showin' me two dead ends

Then the beats got to showin' me you can make ends
Goin' hard in the pank when the pussy boys can't
One thug that had some said that boy Bash
That manilla world max pain comin' for that ass yes suh!

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

I'm just a mack man
I'm just a mack man
And if it's crackin' where you mackin'?
Where you at man?

I'm just a mack man
I'm just a mack man
And if it's crackin' where you mackin'?
Where you at man?

I'm just a mack man
I'm just a mack man
And if it's crackin' where you mackin'?
Where you at man?

I'm just a mack man
I'm just a mack man
And if it's crackin' where you mackin'?
Where you at man?

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

We deep
(Yeh suh!)
We creep
(Yeh suh!)
We throw, we blow
(Uhh huh yeh suh!)

We fly
(Yeh suh!)
No lie
(Yeh suh!)
Off the trank and the dank so high
(Yeh suh!)

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8a5ab180a34581cf77f56a5f849b647d

Role Models - Lyrics - Rich Boy - Rich Boy

Title: Role Models
Album: Rich Boy
Artist: Rich Boy
Composer(s): Donnie Sanchez, Attitude Timothy Clayton, Qua Ba Gold, Jamal F. Jones, David Banner, Niquay Jones, Warren Anderson Mathis, Marece Benjamin Richards

Lyric:
Parents should go out and play with their kids
'Cause we ain't no damn role models, real G's

Right there in between Florida and Mississippi
Mobile Alabama this is Rich Boy city
And the bricks get flipped 'cause we close to the water
If ya ain't gettin' ya dope from me, nigga, ya oughta

I fucked the mayor's daughter, he hate it when I call her
But I'm still ridin' 'round in that Beamer that he bought her
There she go now but I'm busy
Gettin' money on the other side of town

So I ain't a fuckin' clan I'll split yo' wig
And I ain't got shit to do wit' yo' kids
Look, Rich Boy quit doin' hardcore shit
Lil' nigga, fuck school, cop five mo' bricks

I see you ballin', yeah, what's up?
This is a motherfuckin' stick up
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it

I'll fall off at the club, like the thang on my waist, yeah
Then lay down the whole place
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it

Let me welcome you to my world, Chevy's and dirt roads
Cheap liquor, pimp niggas that work hoes
Big trucks, niggas gettin' they swerve on
Country niggas ain't slow, fuck what you heard, homes

Get a Swisher, lit it, switchin' on some killa shit
Poke out your chest, ball up ya fist, buddy, ya still a bitch
My niggas ignorant, foolish bunch of belligerents
We hit the VIP, pullin' bitches and spillin' shit

So if it seem like I'm buzzin', I'm sholliz
Fuckin' wit' my country cousin and them, from Mobile
'Bama bred backwood, niggas, we so trill
Well, let the foot watch me and lil' Rich gettin' in hoes' ears

What it is? Damn right, we ain't a role model
Half pints to half a gallon, we drank the whole bottle
That's why them hoes holla, they know them 'bout a dollar
And they might get to ride Impala, if them bitches swa

I see you ballin', yeah, what's up?
This is a motherfuckin' stick up
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it

I'll fall off at the club, like the thang on my waist, yeah
Then lay down the whole place
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it

I see the kids wanna rap like me
'Cause ya see me wit' the bitches livin' life on TV
Around in my hood, boys fillin' graves up
Niggas talkin' that shit, see the Techs raise up

Hangin' wit' the convicts and my boy attitude
I was fuckin' them the bitches in the back of the school
Can't you tell, motherfucker, I was raised by the streets?
Fuck you studio gangstas, niggas reppin' on beats

My uncle doin' fed down in Talladega, bitch
It ain't shit you can tell me about Lil' Rich
You better take ya lil' kids to the pastor
'Cause Rich Boy ain't a role model for them bastards

We ain't role models
(We be smokin')
We ain't role models
(We be drankin')

We ain't role models
(We be fuckin' these hoes)
We ain't role models

I see you ballin', yeah, what's up?
This is a motherfuckin' stick up
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it

I'll fall off at the club, like the thang on my waist, yeah
Then lay down the whole place
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it
We'll take yo' shit and think nothin' about it

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f2f272346b1ad7766dca3a1bbf0e2972

Nothin To Somethin - Lyrics - Gerald Levert

Title: Nothin To Somethin
Artist: Gerald Levert
Composer(s): Gerald Levert, Darrell Allamby, Kenneth Dickerson

Lyric:
Hey, what's up?
I wanna dedicate this one
To all my ballers, shot callers, ha
You know how we do
We turned nothing into something

From the South Side to the East Side
From the ghetto to the high rise
Look at how we livin' now, oh yeah
Check out how we livin'now, oh

From the hooptie to the Benz-o
From the Greyhound to the Limo
That's how we rollin' girl, oh yeah
Look at how we rollin' now, oh

We took nothing
And turned it into something
We took nothing
And turned it into something
Turned it into something

Check it out
From the Iced Tea to the Cristal
From the swap meet to the big mall
That's how we ballin' girl
Check out how we ballin' now, yeah

From sexin' to making love
From protection to no glove
That's how we're making babies now
A little G, look just like me, hey can't you see?

From the South Side to the East Side
From the ghetto to the high rise
Look at how we livin' now, oh yeah
Check out how we livin'now, oh

I ain't never gonna leave you girl
I ain't never gonna go nowhere
I ain't never gonna hurt you girl
I ain't never gonna beat you girl

And I ain't never gonna let you down
I ain't never gonna make you frown
I ain't never, I ain't never, I ain't never gonna

I ain't never gonna

From the hooptie to the Benz-o
From the Greyhound to the Limo
That's how we rollin' girl, oh yeah
Look at how we rollin' now, oh

Look, we've got so much her together, babe
You see we took nothing and turned it into something, oh

We took nothing
We turned it into something
You and me together
Check it out, lemme break it down
We took nothing
See one year of courting
Two years of kissing
Three years of fuckin'
And four years of making love
Said just you and me, you and me
So that equals eternity, hey hey

I know you feelin' me now, huh, They said it wouldn't last
Said it wouldn't last

We took nothing
See one year of courting
Two years of kissing
Three years of fuckin'
And four years of making love
Turned it into something
That's you and me
That's the way a love should be, yeah
You and me did, you and G did
Said we did, yeah

We took nothing
Look at what we did, look at we did
Turned it into something
We took all our tiny fingers and we put them together
Turned it into something
And we made up something so good, so sweet
Everybody everybody wants it, everybody wants it
We took nothing, nothing
We took nothing
Nothing, nothing, ah baby baby

Ah, nothing, nothing
Said we took nothing, me and you
You and me, you and me baby
Uh huh, uh huh

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4f41fec0ed6d8e911ca4853512d4c6c2

Pour Wax - Lyrics - Hustler's P.O.M.E. - Jim Jones

Title: Pour Wax
Album: Hustler's P.O.M.E.
Artist: Jim Jones
Composer(s): H Rell, Jim Jones

Lyric:
Yeah, you pour wax on the table, uh huh, and you set it on fire
Uh, yeah, you know
This that dope boy shit, nigga
Ya smell me, fuck wit ya

Your reign on the top, short like leprechauns
I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms
And I came from the block, was flawless with ex-cons
And we aimin' them glocks, of course, ready to bomb

Now I done seen a custy cop four pies of the same gear
I also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year
The concrete jungle, no trees to swing from
This weed and gettin' drunk and heaters gettin' dumped

Or hit the highway, nigga, key's up in the trunk
Back up in the city with some skeezers in the trunk
I ain't a player but I do my dirt, dawg
Drop top 'Cedes better move when it murk off

I got it swayin' to the left lane
Plus a nigga coughin' 'cause the haze give me chest pain
Yes, mothafucka, the boys are back with my vest
And I'm tucked up with my boys in back, fucka

You don't want it with them niggas
While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer
Bet you're mad 'cause we ballin', bet you're mad 'cause we scorin'
If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin

Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth
Even four in sedan, I'm swervin' in the coupe
Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof
Now shoot back, now shoot back

Ah man, Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit again
Same black hoodie, ya same fo' fifth again
Bitches stop likin' me but now they on my dick again
See me in that Aston with my chain glistenin'

Yeah, I'm bustin' off the chrome, yeah, I'm 'bout to off your dome
Kill a mother and a father, kids go to foster homes
Yeah, I like to floss the chrome, nigga, leave the boss alone
See my neck and my wrist, I'm rockin' with a cost for homes

Homie, they don't call me Ruger for nothin'
Back out on these bitch niggas, get that Ruger to dumpin'
So don't run up on me, nigga, you know I stay with it
G'd up from my beef and brocks, to the Oakland A's, fitted

That's the bottom to the top, you seen the bottom of the pot
I got it white, I got it tan, it's either you coppin' or you not
Nigga, jets is pullin' off and you stuck on the curb
D I P, B G, fuck what you heard

You don't want it with them niggas
While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer
Bet you're mad 'cause we ballin', bet you're mad 'cause we scorin'
If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin

Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth
Even four in sedan, I'm swervin' in the coupe
Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof
Now shoot back, now shoot back

We all strapped in the ride, I ain't talkin' like the elderly
Yak when we drive, like we rollin' fuckin' felony
Trap to survive, get the buck, sellin' keys, it's hard to get by
That's why we puff hella weed

But if this high don't come down
I feel the walls spinnin' like the sky gon' come down
I need air, top of the ride, gon' come down
And I swear I stay fly when I jump out

Jewled up in ice, that bent that dude like
Spyder 430 with the bluish lights
Got the coupe, bright, but we still shoot dice
For my niggas on the Eastside, this is true life

You don't want it with them niggas
While you haters steady bitchin', my niggas gettin' richer
Bet you're mad 'cause we ballin', bet you're mad 'cause we scorin'
If he get outta line, put his punk ass in the coffin

Nigga, we the regime, Byrdgang, we the truth
Even four in sedan, I'm swervin' in the coupe
Oak wood in interior, suede on the roof
Now shoot back, now shoot back

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92b837f3df322fcd5c18da0d8770f452

Gettin' It - Lyrics - Jackpot - Chingy

Title: Gettin' It
Album: Jackpot
Artist: Chingy
Composer(s): Alonso Lee, Howard Bailey, Shamar Daugherty

Lyric:
Unh unh, unh chingy, gettin' it, yeah unh, unh
Hope you know how to get it
'Cuz right herre, we gon' get it, it's like this

We gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my hustlers are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start

Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my ladies are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start
Gettin' it

I'm on top of my game droppin' the flame
My name, got me dodgin' the fame
Watchin' the dames, surround us when we poppin' champagne
Coppin' the range plus thems got it dropped on them thangs

Flossin's a shame I'm countin' thousands, doin' some poutin'
Then I'm throwin' Iowa, back stage girls are shoutin'
Haters hate, but it alright if it's a race then we won
Took some years, to get here, now mama, look atcha' son

Blastin' em witout a gun just a mic and some beat
No mo' eatin' where it's cheap adjustin' to fine meat
Women lookin' like that's him like they seen the Pope
Wallet full of crispy bills now I'm never goin' broke 'cuz I'm

Gettin' it we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my hustlers are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start

Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my ladies are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start
Gettin' it

Breakin' niggaz wit the flow movin' faster than Flo Jo
Floatin' through the three by four rim cocked to my left low
I'm the boy that got dough talk to my dirty mo'
Ooh, I'm gettin' it wit the thump behind the track, Sammy so

Went from in my momma house, to boy out in the condo
I got them dudes mad, I make 'em mad enough to go pern yo
Painted bracelet, can't you taste it more powerful than the matrix
Cats they get dropped from they label I'm here now, now they in basics

Want you face it, if you didn't, if they focused, then it's crazy
'Bout to have this industry doin' for me it's like it's slavery
To my ladies get it daily shit I'll see you ladies
Still dippin' they gotta say but you still gotta pay me

My daddy had her for what canary yellow on some other
Now I got a Bentley livin' a legacy, the same brother
We some docka, he won't stop us better learn, listen and watch us
Don't worry 'bout a thang smooth C ooh, see I gotcha

Gettin' it we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my hustlers are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start

Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my ladies are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start
Gettin' it

We're gettin' in, the lou, twenty-twos, on old school
They gettin' it in Miami, kickin' it wit no rules
They gettin' it in Chicago playas holdin' it down
They gettin' it in New Orleans bouncin' to my sound

They gettin' it in New York keep it gutta, they love it
They gettin' it in Boston cats get wild in the public, shit
They gettin' it in Detroit thuggin', ballin' and spendin'
They gettin' it in Milwaukee buck wild corners they bangin'

They gettin' it in Caley high rollin' and bangin'
They gettin' it in Atlanta thorities watchin' me drankin'
They gettin' it in Las Vegas them team heard of slots
They gettin' it in Virginia cats mobbin' up they flop

Gettin' it we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my hustlers are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start

Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it all my ladies are
Gettin' it, we gettin' it, you gettin' it
I'm gettin' it, we gettin' it just so you could start

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Mississippi - Lyrics - David Banner

Title: Mississippi
Artist: David Banner
Composer(s): Lavell W Crump

Lyric:
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Mississippi mothafucka, Newton County
What I live and die for, Scott County
Ball for da kids, Simpson County
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Niggas out here flashin' and ballin' and shit
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
I'm supposed to be so hard
Fuckin' rebel flags still flyin', fuck 'em, some hoes

We from a place where dem boys still pimpin' them hoes
We from a place, Cadillacs still ridin' on Vogues
We from a place where my soul still don't feel free
Where a flag means more than me in Mississippi

We from a place where dem boys still pimpin' them hoes
We from a place, Cadillacs still ridin' on Vogues
We from a place where my soul still don't feel free
Where a flag means more than me

Still ridin' Cadillacs, still bump in the back
Mothafuckas talk shit but we still in the hood
Mississippi in this thang Pinky rang in my hand
Peanut butta top lovin' wood

Crackas only come to buy crack
And cracka cops only come to bust niggas who sell that
We from a place where dey scream
Pimp a hoe, pimp a hoe

We from a place where dey still
Chop dem boes, chop dem boes
We from a place where yo grandmama still showin' you love
And we still eatin' chicken in the club, bitch

We from a place where dem boys still pimpin' them hoes
We from a place, Cadillacs still ridin' on Vogues
We from a place where my soul still don't feel free
Where a flag means more than me in Mississippi

We from a place where dem boys still pimpin' them hoes
We from a place, Cadillacs still ridin' on Vogues
We from a place where my soul still don't feel free
Where a flag means more than me

We from a place where mega evers live and mega evers died
We from a place what we chokin' on sticky green to get high
We from a place where ya used to come in the summatime
Now y'all don't mention us in ya rhyme we kin folk

Ya we broke, some talk wit a drawl but bitch we ball
Runnin' through with two techs screamin' "Fuck all, y'all"
We from a place where da rebel flag still ain't burnin'
New schools but the black kids still ain't learnin' 'bout shit

But hit da streets and learn to pimp on a bitch
Five-O, oh, shit throw yo crack in the ditch
And y'all nigga run, y'all nigga run
Like 'Forrest Gump', they got pumps
And them crooked cops love to dump in Mississippi

We from a place where dem boys still pimpin' them hoes
We from a place, Cadillacs still ridin' on Vogues
We from a place where my soul still don't feel free
Where a flag means more than me in Mississippi

We from a place where dem boys still pimpin' them hoes
We from a place, Cadillacs still ridin' on Vogues
We from a place where my soul still don't feel free
Where a flag means more than me

601, 601
Crooked letter, crooked letter
Oh, Mississippi, Mississippi, ohh
Wave ya hands from side to side

601, represent where you from
You don't want none, Mississippi
601, Da place we're from
Mississippi, 601, say 601, 601, Mississippi

Hell yeah, Mississippi you know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Home of da blues, da dirtiest part of da south
You know what I'm talkin 'bout
The place where you get dem fish and dem criss muhfucka

Yeah, you know what I'm talkin bout
Delta muhfucka, Cotton you know what I'm talkin bout
We 'bout to free da slaves bitch
Where yo grandmama from nigga

Yo ol one generation moved away slave ass
Booty fuck ass, gank ass, punk ass bitch
Now come on back home get you somethin' to eat

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