Wanna Be a Baller lyrics by Lil’ Troy That’s-That’s the only price I need to know to find me somethin’Man, yeah baby, man [?] woke up out that damn [?], man, I’m still gone from last night
Wanna Be a Baller lyrics
[Intro: Yungstar & Big T]
That’s-That’s the only price I need to know to find me somethin’
Man, yeah baby, man [?] woke up out that damn [?], man, I’m still gone from last night
[Chorus: Big T]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin’ laid tonight (‘Sup)
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there’s got to be a better way!
A better way, better way, yeah
[Verse 1: Yungstar]
I’m a, baller, I’m a twenty-inch crawler
Blades on Impala, diamond Rottweiler
I-10 hauler, never leader not a follower
Break these boys off, I’mma twenty inch crawler
Bust a left, a right, I’m outta sight, I’m throwed
I’m bouncin’ off the road, I’m in a modem wit’ them foenem
The chain and charm, hop out my big body foreign
Chain with the charm can’t forget Moet along
I’m hoppin’ out, I’m lookin’ good, diamonds against the wood
Man it’s understood, got money in my hood
I’m pushing big body can’t stop me
‘Fore the nine-eight got to sell a million copies
I’mma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the sto’
I’mma go real slow, puffin indo out the do’
I’mma lit the stash green, man I’m lookin clean
Want remote control screens and nice byzantines
[Chorus: Big T]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, getting laid tonight ([?])
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike (Yeah, real)
(Two) I hit the highway (Yo, wussup!), making money the fly way (Wussup, stew!)
But there’s got to be a better way!
(T [?], wussup baby! What’s going on? Take two!)
A better way, better way, yeah
[Verse 2: Fat Pat]
Big balling, smashing, making my ends
Smoking big killer, getting high in the Benz
Big balling, smashing, making my ends
Smoking big killer, getting high in the Benz
In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
Your eyes, get froze, as you see my low
Candy-red two-door, let my top down slow
Hitting, my remote, sitting, in my shit
Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
It don’t quit, as I get high
From K.C. to H-Town, connecting Southside
Now we worldwide, watch me highside
Fat Pat blowing killer, can’t be denied
187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
Blowing sticky green with Flo, Brew and that Bub
[Chorus: Big T]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, getting laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there’s got to be a better way!
A better way, a better way, yeah
[Verse 3: Lil’ Will]
Sitting fat down South, rolling Benz on blocks
Mo’ skrilla I got, signing with ShortStop
And that’s for real, so tell me how you feel
To make a million dollars out my first record deal
ShortStop, putting up your motherfucking ear
Really really don’t give a fuck and I ain’t drinking on no beer
Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
Trunk hitting for life baby it’s Southside
We on a fucking mission, Expedition, Navigator
That’s how we be riding, alligator suitcasing
Putting it in your face, and that’s for real
Shining harder than the grill, it’s the player Lil’ Will
Down with the 2 Low, Yungstar be a thug
So nigga nigga what? I’m down with Mo’Thugs
Mo’Thugs and da Bone, you know it’s going down
Representing that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound
[Chorus: Big T]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, getting laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there’s got to be a better way!
A better way, a better way, yeah
[Verse 4: Yungstar]
I gots to get better man, it gots to move on
Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone
Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon
Used to count my spokes, now these hoes count my inches
Had to get older — man it got colder
I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder
Links in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan
Boys don’t understand, virtual reality Caravan
Double doors, marble floors, naked hoes around me
Everytime I’m comin’ out, niggas they wanna sign me
Got the Lil’ Will, diamond grills in my grin
Blaze in the Benz and you can’t forget DenDen
Boobie diamond Ruby’s, I’m watchin’ on a movie
Drop the top on Scott, and you know I’m in a jacuzzi
Bourbon and I’m swervin’, man it’s gettin’ hot
My last name Lemmon, drive my tight’um off the lot, David Taylor
[Chorus: Big T]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin’ laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there’s got to be a better way!
A better way, better way, yeah
[Verse 5: Hawk]
I hit the highway
Having things my way, I parlay
Everyday all day, ain’t no way
Boys can’t stop as I slide through your neighborhood
Chop chop chop, headed straight to the top
I only play to win, ’bout to close up shop
Short Stop and Dead End, pimp the pen once again
Peep the message I send
Take these levels that you devils can’t comprehend
Big body Benz as I floss through the South
Big blue lens, now whatcha talkin about?
Close yo’ mouth as I settle our scores
Scream and shout, my similes and metaphors
Mansion doors, I constantly close
All you hoes, go and take off your clothes
Lord knows ain’t no time to play
Commence the fuckin and-a suckin on the H.A.W.K
[Chorus: Big T]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin’ laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there’s got to be a better way!
A better way, better way, yeah
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