Текст песни Z-Ro f H.A.W.K - Steady Ballin`
Z-Ro f H.A.W.K - Steady Ballin` слова песни
(*talking*)It`s going down, straight upI`m steady balling, shot callingI`m clowning em baby[Hook]Steady balling, tonightWe gon ride while we sipping and smokingSteady balling, outta controlWe gon swang, with the trunk open glowing[Z-Ro]Nothing but things I`m seeing, nigga be chasing divid-endsPimping the pen, and I gotta keep a thermostat on my skinAnd catch a cold, with the motherfucking ice I`m inBig bubble lenses, at the front of the carWe in the club, running up a fat run at the barPuffing plex, anybody get a punch to the jawNo soda water, got a pint doing it rawAnd everyday, I put new shoes on my feetSugar brown ladies or red bones on my meatI`ma skip with the rub or not, on my sheetsAnd ride with a big fo`-five, on my seatPulling out the yard, as I drop the topReady for the jackers, still gon cock the glockPulling up at the club, everybody still show loveBut I`m still not gonna stop for bopsBut I`ma stop for the drank, man po` me upHoping to nine seven point nine, blow me upBut these fellas be in it for the competitionSeem like, everybody wanna show me upBut nigga fuck the fame, cause I want the changeLike Lil` James, leaving stains on niggaz brainI smoke and I lean, but still I maintain balling mayn[Hook][H.A.W.K.]When the top down, I`ma drop the restOn 8-3`s, and bumper kitCandy paint, looking wet to spitPiece on my neck, read Screwed Up ClickAlbum silver, bubble head lightsTrunk gon knock, like lights of fireAt the intersection, I run the red lightsAll my jewelry, is draped in iceCrazy chain, piece and medallionPass the seat, or yellow stallionPretty brown eyes, and thick thighsHalf Chinese, mixed with ItalianPaid for, everything cashMy rear view, is in my dashGot a pop spot, to hide my stashHide my trunk, see the baby gashMild dog, is super mealsDrop my top, feel the atmosphereTweety singing, loud and clearIn my cup, is BelvederePockets full, of big face billsThree story pad, in Beverly HillsSo much ice, you get the chillsIn the studio, I shred the reals[Z-Ro]Man no more struggling we bubbling, collecting with BreadwoodWhite golf against the click, we drop bullets and I`m ahead themWe ride on top of the ridge, like a wide stallionBezeltine around me neck, with the diamond medallion[Hook][Z-Ro]Barley moving on swangas, and knocking off the side rollingGotta give it up to the Fat Pat, nigga cause we Southside holdingRolling in luxury cars, sipping on bar, talking on cellularsReceiving messages from Mars, nothing but rap starsAnybody wanna fuck with us, fuck around and get flipped up and zipped upIn a six foot ziploc, cause I got a glock in my right handAnd I`ma flip, when I can`t even act like he wanna tripI said it like that and I`ll say it again, matter fact push record and playit againWith a bop digger then, Trae and Den in a BenzAnd accepting all the dope trafficingGot the dope in the trunk, and we backing inSo much money, gotta back track my endsI got the glut opium, black cause I`m AfricanAmerican, Guerilla Maab gon shine for lifeBut our motherfuckers, are dull like a butter knifeI put it on my balls and on my life, Z-Ro never been shifeCat don`t come around me, just let me ballIf I fall off my note, then let me fallNeeded help from God, did he get my callPulling out the lot, and he let me crawlLike Mafio, by the year two triple OI`ma come down, in a six double OWith green flow, mats on the flo`Candy paint on my do`, it`s bout for the hook and it go[Hook - 2x]