Ballin’ lyrics

by

Ice-T


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*gga, I die a paid n*gga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n*gga, I die a paid n*gga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n*gga, I die a paid n*gga
I'll be a baller 'til I die
I'll be ballin' to my grave n*gga, I die a paid n*gga

Spice 1:
Some n*ggas be all up in my sh*t, you need to quit
Sprinkle a motherf*cker that will leave you split
Tore back ass out bringing you your hat
Flat broke, talking about f*ck that n*gga 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 ass like punk b*tches in ditches
The gangsterism resulting in murderism
Bailing up in your hooptie at the gas station
You facing the killer for real-a punk ass n*gga
Where the scrilla
Jacking you for your sh*t, taking your ends pull off
My mask
Hitting the corner, hopping up in my Benz with your
Cash
Mobbing I mash out, you ass out
Left you shot up in your seven-trey glasshouse
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*gga 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*ggas on the grind, packing nine millimeters
Nine lives like cheetahs, but your still in ???
Drug dealers peep the sh*t that I kick
Hustling, busting down zips making chips
If we ain't making it we taking sh*t
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*cking bank, looking like Benjamin
Frank and Itake
So many penitentiary chances, to make
Scrilla scratch n*ggas must have more stack in the safe
I mean ???, n*gga 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 ass shot
Yeah, another one bites the dust, the shyster busts
Caps at your house
Matter fact, n*ggas 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*gga L-Q
Ballin'
Chorus

Spice 1:
It's the motherf*cking East Bay G with the hundred
Clipper, savage thugn*gga
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*ckers 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*t that we're in
Got to be a soldier to the game or n*gga 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*gga walk with the yellow
Stripe
But pull me back, because they cowards and sh*t
I be the n*gga that take your drama and put a twist
In your the sh*t
Caps get slapped with steel, hot slugs will be your
Meal
f*cking around with my money is just going to get
Your ass killed
Interlude
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