Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ball Till We Die (feat. Noke D), artist - E.S.G.. Date of issue: 04.04.1995
Song language: English
Ball Till We Die (feat. Noke D) |
| Off the heezy baby, knowI’mtalkingbout |
| We gone do this thang till a nigga six feet deep |
| Baby, we gone ball till we die on Wreckshop |
| And all these soldiers, knowI’mtalkingbout |
| KnowI’msaying, Screwed Up Click |
| Laff. |
| Tex, everybody baby you knowI’msaying |
| Partner Big Shots, check it out, check it out |
| Now I know by the year 1999, I’m gone shine |
| The bumping kid gone recline |
| Cause I’ma grind all the way to the summer |
| Then I’ma backdo' with the low Pro Yokohama’s |
| And uh, bout to ball, I’ma let the screens fall |
| Then stuff the turkey full of sticky green for all y’all |
| And by this winter, this big money spender |
| I mean a G gone be this sold a ki to Marvin Siller |
| See niggas I get in it, I’m suppose to killa |
| I’m a soldier that the feds can’t get close to nigga |
| Bout it Bout it like? |
| that’s for love to forgive you |
| Wreckshop roll with choppers and bitch I kill you |
| Just for fucking with scrilla that’s suppose to be in my bank account |
| Fuck a 3 for 10 cause once again we blowing dank by the ounce |
| Cause it’s money over here, I match what you spend |
| We balling once again saw the benz with blue lens |
| I don’t see no reason why |
| Me and my g’s we can’t ball till we die |
| Sipping hennessy, and blowing big smoke |
| Yeah, I bullshit the definition of balling with you white folks |
| I don’t see no reason why |
| Me and my g’s we can’t ball till we die |
| Now you can be a gangsta, pimp, playa, mac or a thug |
| Want all the ballas in the club toss it up what’s up |
| To be a G in New Orleans way down to H-Town |
| I 10 connect, reelect respect with the sound |
| Platinum bound, niggas making money forever |
| Surround sound, rolling Navigators with leather |
| Whoever, want to test this, we can wreck shit |
| Cause the shit don’t stop we wreck shop, down in Texas |
| I bet this is the best shit you ever heard |
| From the third, niggas making money with words |
| Your vision’s blurred, we drop bombs on al-bums |
| Got em body rocking and shocking down at Vietnam |
| We weather the storm, so bring the rain, sleet or snow |
| Ask your hoe, she know, how we go and we know |
| D baby, I’m still throwed in the game |
| Putting kicks, snares and bass lines to make bang |
| We living these ghetto dreams so I’m flashing my diamond rings |
| My high beams to the sky, it’s E.S.G. |
| and I |
| Twenty five lighters on my dresser, yes sir |
| Twenty five birds in my compressor, bet you |
| Feds won’t find the damn onion |
| Cause I ain’t tell a soul that I was coming |
| In a state of running back and fourth, can’t take no shorts |
| Cause niggas I fuck with, got game like E.A. |
| sports |
| Yes son we in the Source, boy my grill shining |
| Bustas best to plex Wreckshop is still climbing |
| If you want it in this game, you got to get it, get it |
| And once you get a mill ticket niggas will kick it |
| Plus hoe niggas do hoe thangs |
| But I’m a throwed nigga doing throwed thangs |
| So please mama may I, grow up to be a playa |
| It’s hard trying to escape uh, these motherfucking hatas |
| I guess you see the platinum rollie and the Wreckshop piece |
| You boys can’t hold me down it’s my fourth release |
| (talking) |
| Uh, man hold up, what’s up D-Reck |
| What’s up Noke D baby, you know it’s going down |
| Baby, god damn right it’s going down |
| It ain’t no secret, it’s already known |
| Wreckshop baby, L to the throne huh |
| Diamonds gone be shown uh |
| Bank account full grown |
| Gone ball till we gone man what |
| Catch up with P-A-T |
| Start it all over again, uh man, feel that |