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NAPPY ROOTS

Ballin' On A Budget

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  dirty south  southern rap
491 3 часа назад

Текст песни NAPPY ROOTS - Ballin' On A Budget

NAPPY ROOTS - Ballin' On A Budget слова песни



Текст песни NAPPY ROOTS - Ballin' On A Budget




Ron Clutch]I'm just a, big bang baller on a budgetDank weed, smokin like ";fuck it";City slicker, country nigga, reppin straight from KentuckyHorseshoes and rabbit paws flossin, chicken closs for the lucky40 flowers, Range Rovers, so they know the tailpipe's rusted( )[Big V]Country cookin, dog fightin, big-body ridinChillin like a mug in Western Kentuck', showin loveSummertime a funner time, smoke and gunner timeSippin Sprite and somethin dark, every fuckin time[Scales]Uhh, okay watch how the po' folk ballStomp through to mall in my overalls, the black GirbaudNo pager, no cellphone, no access at allJust a pack of Dutch Masters and a pint of alcohol[Skinny DeVille]My hooptie, with a down crew like Boots saidYou don't +Perm+, +Fuck a+ fadelet my hair swang back and forth like a germIll nigga with sick shit, pull out this and stick it in this thick chickBaby 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 combWhattcha 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 truckKentucky Mud on my shoes and my socksHungry Jack, pheffer tryna stuff some food in my gutCountry cat in the cowboy hatI'm front to back put the house on that[Ron Clutch]Candied yams, chitlins, greens, and smoked country hamChicken wings, cornbread, gran in the kitchen throwin downEat good, tryna smoke somethin, run up on a poundRoll somethin, gut a vega tryna stuff it with a ounce[Big V]Hummin, mama cookin that mean it's Sunday mo'ninHalf a pint of bootleg gin, it keep my goinFat knot, (?) , bad daylightCigars and happy bags, man we stay right[Scales]Aww man, we go back, like sweet pickle book clubsNigga that was good love, summertime bathin in a foot tubDamn that shit hurt, and my jams in that shirtAtari 26, one stick, never worked[Chorus: Skinny][B. Stille]Comin up in the woods, all I did was run barefootNe'er could comb my hair goodMy hairline grew like ten pound vines'Tween my rib and my underwareIt's still a thin brown line, shit




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