Track byThe Piano Classic Players
I'm a Balla, I walk the walk bruh I'm not a talker I keep it pimpin' so these women 'll pay me If you a balla, and bout ya dollars Then throw ya hands up if you gettin' it daily Don't even talk uh, bout what it cost ya If you ain't really out there gettin' it baby If you a balla, and a shot calla Then throw ya hands up if you gettin' it daily Koopa, I got comma's and zero's And a lot of Robert Deniro I know hoes that love other hoes That'll get down in a trio But it ain't nothin' to me though I'ma grinder, y'all know my steelo Got no record or no P.O But I dodge police like I'm Neo, nigga we know Far East and Chamillionaire Gon' bring four stacks then spend a pair Throw two other stacks in the air We stepped in here like G-G-G'yeah You a balla, let me see it You a shot caller, let me see it Bout them dollars, let me see it Pop ya collar, G-G-G'yeah Whomp! Whomp!, I'ma head bussa I'ma keep on paper chasin' Servin' all these muthafucka's I'ma keep on ridin' Ain't no way y'all gonna ever touch us I'ma keep on chiefin', puffin' Chokin' on that charlie dutchey And I keep one on my side That's my only buddy buddy I'm movin' weight, like the nutty professor Better get ya change up ooh yessuh Better pack that metal, they'll test ya Stain chain, gotta hit em' hard When I roll that truck like Pastor Troy 24's in my ? bump Better get em' boy, sick em' boy Gotta make that money, rip em' boy Like a pitbull dog, I'll sick em' boy Here we came to bring in noise You a balla, let me see it You a shot caller, let me see it Bout them dollars, let me see it Pop ya collar, let me see it Yeah, Play F, Skillz No matter what they say No matter what they do Muthafucka's ain't got no clue Of what we tryna do Ride in coupes, ride on Koopa, who what? Do what?, muthafuckas you ain't clappin' my crew Keepin' it gangsta, plus y'all lack Black on Black, ridin' Jordans That ain't Coogi homie, quit cappin' you can't afford it That's how it go, doin' shows, puffin' dro, bangin' beats Far East, from Dallas, Tex, but TL call me Greg Street Me and Koopa not some hoopers, but we ballin' I see you actin' stupid, better move it or ya fallin' Pausin', never keep it movin' like my rims They say I'm clever, but it's the cheddar I spend that's makes me win If you a baller then dribble til' ya hands get tired 'cause that's the way my wrist feels when I'm tryna raise it higher You a balla, let me see it Shot caller, let me see it Bout them dollars, let me see it Pop ya collar, let me see it Like where do I start, or where do I begin When it comes to ballin' and flossin', I shine like them rims That's intend to spin, act like a crip, nah fuck it dog Act like a chimp, like crooked monkeys throwin' up sets You ain't no throw em' up click, you used to throwin' up bricks We pro-ballers down south daddy, empty the clips I got 5 in my eye, I need 10 on my wrist So while I'm flippin' ya bitch, I put 10 to the lips It's just that young boy Lumba Who's known to bump a Take over the industry, while these other rappers crumble I'ma balla, you can see it I'ma shot caller, you can see it I'ma flosser, you can see it Superstar, gonna be it