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Текст песни Spice 1 - Ballin

Spice 1 - Ballin слова песни




Chorus:Ill be a baller til I dieIll be ballin to my grave nigga, I die a paid niggaIll be a baller til I dieIll be ballin to my grave nigga, I die a paid niggaIll be a baller til I dieIll be ballin to my grave nigga, I die a paid niggaIll be a baller til I dieIll be ballin to my grave nigga, I die a paid niggaSpice 1:Some niggas be all up in my shit, you need to quitSprinkle a motherfucker that will leave you splitTore back ass out bringing you your hatFlat broke, talking about fuck that nigga s-p-iBut you cant go one on one spice 1 because Im bornTo dieI gets even up on they ass like punk bitches in ditchesThe gangsterism resulting in murderismBailing up in your hooptie at the gas stationYou facing the killer for real-a punk ass niggaWhere the scrillaJacking you for your shit, taking your ends pull offMy maskHitting the corner, hopping up in my benz with yourCashMobbing I mash out, you ass outLeft you shot up in your seven-trey glasshouseBecause you dont know me like you think you do, imDown for thefettyReady to die for them presidents, high powered andDeadlyI ask to ball or not to ball, partner answer theQuestionI meet a nigga running up on my hooptie with smithAnd wessonChorusYukmouth:One time for your mindHere to represent the pimps, playas, hustlas, ballersAll my niggas on the grind, packing nine millimetersNine lives like cheetahs, but your still in ? ? ? Drug dealers peep the shit that I kickHustling, busting down zips making chipsIf we aint making it we taking shitTo the extreme hit the scenery with machineGun, get the creamery and ice cream, nobody screamNobody run, I come like point blankMobbing the motherfucking bank, looking like benjaminFrank and itakeSo many penitentiary chances, to makeScrilla scratch niggas must have more stack in the safeI mean ? ? ? , nigga your safe is my safeAnd Im gonna make sure that my safe aint your safeBy putting a .38 up in your faceFor running up in my place and shake the spotAnd not expect to get your ass shotYeah, another one bites the dust, the shyster bustsCaps at your houseMatter fact, niggas dont like the yukmouthAbout to l-u, didnt they tell youIm a youngster trying to have something like myNigga l-qBallinChorusSpice 1:Its the motherfucking east bay g with the hundredClipper, savage thugniggaSee I was born with the lust for money, chrome platedTriggersMob style haulering 187 up in your facePut a gauge between your throat and tell you thatYour out of placeMotherfuckers dont be knowing we vicious and viciousTo get the cheeseMore tickets to gs, cruises overseasCant be no punk about the shit that were inGot to be a soldier to the game or nigga youll neverGet your dividendsBalling til I die, until I die Ill be a ballerLet my riders do the dirt and Ill be the shotcallerWhatever I got to do for the lifestyle thatll payThem foreverNever slip stay on my toes nigga walk with the yellowStripeBut pull me back, because they cowards and shitI be the nigga that take your drama and put a twistIn your the shitCaps get slapped with steel, hot slugs will be yourMealFucking around with my money is just going to getYour ass killedInterlude

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