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Artist/Band:
Beelow
Lyrics for Song: Ballaholic
Lyrics for Album: Ballaholic
Hmm..
Hmm...
Hmm....
Big Ballin, VRC made niggaz
Shot callin, we know the mother hold never falling
the original never we straight flossin
I'm put to roll you like some gumbo, fresh out the pot
Ballin all off out of control, wodie
Ridin big ol' ass trucks, buyin whatever the fuck I want
Holla I want this, pullin out a green trump
I roll with hustlers, ballers, and killers
And you don't want to go to war with a pro
I be on the go, actin' a got damn fool
Totin my four five cuz thats my boo
I keep my rat-a-tat-a-tat-a lied low in my Lac
And if some shit jump off I'm a roast your ass
I got ??? cream dog, A to the One
With a tight grip on my green dog, wodie
I'm straight pimpin the game, livin my life like a kingpin
Everyday livin by the trigga cuz I'm all in
Cheddar chasin', no time for no stallin
Money, weed, cars, hoes, big ballin
Hook
Its beautiful
I told you once before and I'm a tell you again
Its beautiful here on top baby
I mean the scenery is just gorgeous
Second verse baby
I make your block hotter than wind
With the people at your door
Did they see to much traffic, cuz I'm ballin out of control
Ghetto millionaire, till I took it to another level
Cuz when it comes down to this ballin ain't a thing you can tell me
Ballaholic baby
Got more things then you can pronounce
You can call me baby
I move nothing less then an ounce
Ain't no sense in stunnin' and frontin' and actin' like you want that
Your paper straight you bout your business you can get that
My Benz's all be bubbled, my Suburban I just gutted
I came in and look at all that grain them hoes loved it
I be that big money gripper
Candycomb corn flipper
This set is bling blingin' when I'm on your block dippin'
Drunk funkin' with that VLO, wodie
I heard you thought I wasn't now ya owe me
Ain't no ends too my pockets cuz my paper too long
I be the brother that can be talkin' off two cell phones
They be like no he didn't, but best believe I did
Keep that nine on my side just so you know I came to win
Hundred thousand dollar shop, it ain't no thang to me
Buy about every day of the week, that ain't no thang to me
Platinum on my wrist and fingers, ain't no thang to me
A ballaholic till I die is what I aim to be
So catch me flippin on my set and my Yokohama slims
Been in blocks gettin caddys, flossin harder then your daddy
See a Rolex for forty g's I got to get that
I even bought with my Suburban how u luv that?
Shit,
How many niggas you know look good when they floss like me
And how many niggas you know could claim they the boss like me
Shit I don't know, but every time I take a cruise
All these niggas be lookin like "Damn" and these bitches looking like "Oooh"
See me comin' in my Navigator or its in my Benz
Gotcha old lady running around telling all her friends
Oooh girl he look cute, damn a nigga fine
Ain't even stop to shine but its so already in line
Shit, BMG to me stand for Big Money Grippers
Steady clockin' major figgas
VRC hard hitters
Shit, my nigga low, he already worth a mil
All these niggas over here shining and bling blinging they got to chill
Already can't see good cuz I'm full of ??? weed
See this chain around my neck it be up for about 20 g's
Everything I roll with plushed
Everything I wear be crushed
And before I meet her I fucked
Big Ballin nigga what
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| Album Lyrics: Ballaholic |
Beelow
"Ballaholic"
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