XV - We Ball Lyrics

feat. Sez Batters & Bruce Meanz

Deuce on the boards
Congrats to my nigga DJ Richey
You know what?
We ball, we ball
It's 2014, let's get this shit started right
We ball, L7
‘Cause we ball

Flow clean, bring a mop
Give them bars, it never stops
Got the fans getting hot
I hold the reins, they just want something to drop
I got the lines by the lot
Pull them up, pick a spot
I got my dogs, we in the drop
They trying to roofie some bitches remove the top
They dig the smell, that's the pot
We roll it up on the spot
Now we chilling on the block
Watching my niggas make papers cutting the rocks
That's just the game, play it or not
But if you play it, get a Glock
Niggas came from getting popped
When you in the hood trying to ball, you take the shot
‘Cause nigga, we

We ball, busting shots

I'm 'bout to kill it, look for the sheets
I'm on the building, look at me leap
These niggas rapping put me to sleep
We put EP's together and see 'em weep
I'm watching planes lay on the lawn
Trying to explain, we ain't on farms
I had a chain, a little charm
I had some game but baby, I came to ball, seen it all
In a truck, zip it up
Ten of us kicking up, windows tinted up
Finna bust like two bitches in A cups and they titties is big as fuck
And they coming to sit with us and live it up
And we ball hard, call guard, all star
Weekend, sleeping in a rented parked car, caught
A couple broads leaving out a parking lot stall
They said, "What is y'all thinking?"
"We just cheap, and we is creeping, but come kick it, you'll be seeing"
We ball, all day
Answer bets, call plays
Trophy case in the hallway
Tell me what else these niggas is gonna say
When we ball
When we ball
Tell me what else these niggas is gonna say, is gonna say
When we ball

I ain't rapping about nothing, I'm just going in
I'm like a scarecrow with no soul within him
An old boy but I ain't Korean
And I'm not that sick with all these angels
Origin, warrior, Victorian
The Death Star, I conquer with a squad of men
Net worth, shit that you can't comprehend
I set fire to homes, arsonist
Caution rappers, killing you is automatic
Scar your back if you try to run with a fucking axe and
Love them back, haters got me up and mad
Kick you like a bum around some cash, fuck a punching bag
Blunted after shows, getting numbers from
Dime pieces, I be fronting like I don't like E
Drunk despite how I'm feeling in the Bentley
Chilling, still contemplating crimes while I'm on the pill and
It don't stop, man, I keep it, roll pot
So hot, my skin color, I forgot
I sit here in the whole lot
Bruce got the ends to shake the whole block
Got them coming back like a dope spot, smoke out

Yeah, and we don't care
Put that fat bitch in the air, yeah
 

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