| Want to be a baller shot caller
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| Twenty inch blades on the Impala
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| A caller gettin laid tonight
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| Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
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| I hit the highway making money the fly way
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| But there’s got to be a better way
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| A better way, better way, yeah, ah
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| I’ma baller I’ma twenty inch crawler
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| Blades on Impala, diamond rottweiller
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| Octane hauler, not a leader not follower
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| Break these boys off I’ma twenty inch crawler
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| Bust a left, a right, I’m outta sight I’m throwed
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| I’m bouncin off the road I’m in a modem with them foe dem
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| Tiny tune -- hop out my big body form
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| Chain with the chong, can’t forget Moet along
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| I’m hot, find me lookin good, diamonds against my wood
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| Man it’s understood -- got money in my hood
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| I’m pushing big body can’t stop me
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| For the nine-eight got to sell a million copy
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| I’ma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the sto'
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| I’ma go real slow -- puffin indo out the do'
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| I’ma lit the stash green, man I’m lookin clean
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| Want remote control screens with ice bezeltynes
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| Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
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| Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
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| Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
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| Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
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| In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
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| Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
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| Yo' eyes, get froze, as you see my low
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| Candy-red, two-do', let my top down slow
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| Hittin, my remote, sittin, in my shit
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| Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
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| It don’t quit, as I get high
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| From K.C. |
| to H-Town, connectin SouthSide
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| Now we worldwide, watch me highside
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| Fat Pat blowin killa, can’t be denied
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| 187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
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| Blowin sticky green we flow through and above
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| Sittin' Fat Down South, rollin Benz on blocks
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| Mo' scrilla I got, signin with Shortstop
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| And that’s for real, so tell me how you feel
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| To make a million dollars out my first record deal
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| Shortstop -- puttin up your motherfuckin ear
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| Really really don’t give a fuck and I ain’t drinkin on no beer
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| Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
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| Trunk hit fo' life baby it’s SouthSide
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| We on a fuckin mission Expedition Navigator
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| That’s how we be ridin, alligator suitcasin
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| Puttin it in your face, and that’s for real
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| Shinin harder than the grill it’s the player Lil' Will
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| Down with the 2-Low, Yungstar be a thug
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| So nigga nigga what? |
| I’m down with my own thugs
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| Mo' thugs in the pound, you know it’s goin down
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| Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound
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| I gots to get better man, it gots to move on
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| Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone
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| Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon
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| Used to count my spoke, now these hoes count my inches
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| Had to get older -- man it got colder
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| I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder
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| Licks in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan
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| Boys don’t understand virtual reality Caravan
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| Double doors marble floors naked hoes around me
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| Every time I’m comin out, niggas they want to sign me
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| Got the Lil' Will diamond grillers ??
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| Blaze in the Benz and you can’t forget the den
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| The boo went down to Rueben’s, I’m watchin on a movie
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| Drop the top it’s cotton, and you know I’m in a jacuzzi
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| Bourban and I’m swervin, man it’s gettin hot
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| My last name Lemmon, drive my tight’um off the lot, David Taylor
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| I hit the highway
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| Everything’s my way, I par-le
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| Everyday all day, ain’t no way
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| Boys can’t stop as I slide through your neighborhood
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| Chop chop chop, headed straight to the top
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| I only play to win -- bout to close up shop
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| Showstoppin dead end, pimp the pen once again
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| Peep the message I send
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| Take these levels that you devils can’t comprehend
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| Big bout it Benz -- as I floss through the south
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| Big blue lens -- now whatcha talkin about?
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| Close yo' mouth -- as I settle all scores
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| Scream and shout -- my similes and metaphors
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| Mansion doors -- I constantly close
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| All you hoes -- go and take off your clothes
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| Lord knows -- ain’t no time to play
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| Commence to fuckin and-a suckin on the H.A.W.K
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| Want to be a baller shot caller
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| Twenty inch blades on the Impala
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| A caller gettin laid tonight
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| Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
|
| I hit the highway making money the fly way
|
| But there’s got to be a better way
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| A better way, better way, yeah, ah |