King T, Ruben Cruz - Big Ballin' (Playin’ 2 Win) lyrics

[King T, Ruben Cruz - Big Ballin' Playin’ 2 Win lyrics]

Ha, on the lay back

Straight hustlin' going on, now, let's begin
The master of the ceremony just walked in
With his little homies and the fifth of Hin'
No hatin' in my game cause I'm playin' to win
Now, niggas need to know I've
Been a G since six
Breakin' fools off when they step
Up in my mix
Catch a young nigga with some brand new kids
Many comin' up out of him, holdin' his lips
Just a real young nigga but
I threw them like spinks
Blew them black Gulf hats and
Turned to your slings
Moved up the Leather Coat got
My bitch wearin' wings
Sittin' in the Coupe` - smokin' pounds a day
Just because I got chips I remained the same
Niggas recognize the real when
I'm shootin' my game
A bullet in your chest won't be no strange
But if I put it in your
Brain it won't be no pain
Ballin' out of contral and I
Can never get choked
I got a loaded Chrome 45 that I tote
Asked any hustler: T be goin' for broke?
Undercover with the locs and
Them luxury spoke
But, when it's time to floss I
Hit the safe for some ends
Choose between the Caddi' or the
Lexus or the Benz
I told you at the top, now, I tell you again
Straight hustlin' going on, let games begin
Let's get down
It's that's how'd you can't deny
Everything we do is fly
I'm big ballin'- playin to Win
Just the players stayin' true
Blowin' Chronic smoke at you
Everything is ballin'

Soon as I pull the Lex-o out the garage
Player haters run to get the
Fuck out of the Dodge
I tried to shoot to gain but
They tried to act hard
They chose is live small while
I gots to live large
Don't tell these hoes that I'm broke
Nigga please i never leave my crib without
At least three Gs
Lookin' like a nigga just shift twenty ki's
Keep myself distant from tiks and flees
Keep type of tire bald head like Shenay
Fuck tellin, Condo Rolex is parvay
King Tee is the nigga that
Them punks can't fade
They're tryin' change each hood as
I'm tryin' to stay paid (female laughter)
I treat the Benz like the old girl friend
Hook that ho up and let my niggas take a spin
You said you got the chronic
I break out the skin
Hustlin' going on and I'm playin' to win
Get down variations
Got my whole crew comin' down
Sippin' Mo' and dodgin' clowns
I'm big ballin'
Awww yeah, just a hustler playin' true
Blowin' Chronic smoke at you
Everything is ballin'

Straight fact
I push up on the mic with more heat
Warning mothafuckers that we can't be beat
From Compton, on up to east Long Beach
That nigga King Tee makes
The drive-by complete (Gun Shot)
I know you've been told
We got the Westcoast sold
I know you've been taught, we can't be caught
So if you're lookin' for them
T's on the westside trippin'
Probably in the Rag '64 just dippin'
The ave is so hot, the CD keep skippin'
While the little homies on the
Block checkin' the grip
So come on by, and throw your set real high
Niggas get smoked tryin' to
Fuck with my supply
And I supply, what you can't go by
That westcoast gangster funk, it won't die
Niggas might lyin' but I tell you the truth
The Hup City is in the house
Settin' fire to the roof let's get down
Minor variations
Yes, that true, you can't deny
Everything we do is fly
I'm big ballin'- yeah, oooh
Just the players stayin' true
Real with Chronic smoke and you
Everything is ballin'
Everything is been ballin'

Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'
Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'
Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'
Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'
Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'
Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'

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