| I would share the definition of ballin’with you white folks…
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| but no.
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| (Tupac)
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| I’m up before the sunrise, first to hit the block.
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| Little bad mothafucka with a pocket full of rocks.
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| And I’m totin’these thangs, get my skinny little ass kicked.
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| And niggas laugh, til’tha first mothafucka got blasted.
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| I put the nigga in his casket,
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| Now they coverin’the bastard in plastic.
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| I smoke blunts on a regular buck when it counts.
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| I’m tryin’to make a million dollars outta quarter ounce.
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| And gettin’lost on the five-o, fuck them hos.
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| Got a 45 screamin’about survival.
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| Hey nigga can I lay low, cook some yay-yo.
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| Hollar one-time when I say so.
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| Don’t want to go to the pen, I’m hittin’fences.
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| Narcs on a nigga’s back, missin’me by inches.
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| And they say how do you survive weighin'165
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| In a city where the skinny niggas die?
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| Tell Mama don’t cry.
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| Even when they kill me,
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| They can never take the game from a young G.
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| I’m st8 ballin'!
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| St8 ballin'!
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| Still on parole and I’m the first nigga servin'
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| pour some liquor on the curb for my niggas that deserve it.
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| But if I want to make a million, gotta stay dealin'.
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| It’s kinda boomin’and today I’ll make a killin'.
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| Dressin’down like a villian', but only on the block.
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| It’s a clever disguise to keep me runnin’from the cops.
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| Ha, I’m gettin’high. |
| I think I’ll die if I don’t get no ends.
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| I’m in a bucket with 'em ridin’it like it’s a Benz.
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| I hate to stip let my music bump,
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| Drinkin’liquor, and I’m lookin’for some hoes to fuck.
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| Rather die makin’money than live poor and legal
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| As I slang another ounce, I wish it was a kilo.
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| A need money in a major way.
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| Time to fuck my BEEEYATCH! |
| Hey!, and getten’paid
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| You other mothafuckas callin',
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| But me and my mothafuckin’thug niggas,
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| We st8 ballin'!!
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| St8 ballin'!
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| Damned if I don’t, and damned if a nigga do.
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| So watch a young mothafucka pull a trigga just to RAISE UP!
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| But don’t let them see you cry, dry your eyes
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| Young nigga time to do or die.
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| I keep a pistol in my pocket,
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| Ready on my block.
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| Ain’t no time for a nigga to even cock shit.
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| And now they see that mothafucka beat pain,
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| At point blank range cause he slept on the game.
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| Ain’t a damned thing changed
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| Shakin’the dice, now roll 'em,
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| If you can’t stand pain better hold 'em.
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| Cause ain’t no tellin’what you might roll.
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| You might go catch AIDS from a slight cold.Nigga.
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| Better live your life to the fullest,
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| You 'bout to kill a fool, got a pistol mothafucka better pull it.
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| Cause even when they kill me,
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| they can never take the game from a young G.
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| We st8 ballin'!
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| We st8 ballin'!
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| To my niggas in the penitentiary,
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| Loked up like a mothafucka when they mention me.
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| Cause you fuckin’with the realest motha fucka ever born,
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| And once again it’s on,
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| I’m bustin’on these bitches till they gone.
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| Who the hell can you get to stop me?
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| I’m in the projects, parlaying with my posse.
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| I keep my glock cocked
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| I need it cause they’re all shady.
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| I finally made it now these jealous bitches tryin’to FADE me!
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| I ain’t goin’out I’d rather blast back.
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| I’m on the corner with my niggas watchin’cash stack.
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| And I came up a long way from food stamps.
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| And takin’shit from the low-life ghetto tramps.
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| Could you blame me if they sweat me I’m gonna open fire.
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| What could I do? |
| Pull my trigga or watch my nigga die.
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| I’m representin’to the fullest givin’devil slugs.
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| I’m on the block slangin’drugs with the young thugs.
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| And mothafucka, we be ballin'!
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| All mothafuckin’day long, stay strong!
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| We st8 ballin'. |