E-40 - Ballin' Outta Control lyrics

rate me

Pushed in the game at a young age

Feel me touch me as I turn the page

A little past ten, roughly about

eleven years old TRAPPED IN A GHETTO CAGE

My scratch is smellin sour and it's stinkin

got a nigga seriously thinkin

"How can I kill this odor, and purchase me a Lincoln?"

Minimum wage flippin patties - nope

I'd rather fuck around with Coca-Cola, yola

Ice cream, candy, granola, huh

Slave for men - that's what they told me

and I'll break you off somethin suitable

Brought you a key of crack quicker than ?

? recoupable

? future black and beautiful

My partners used to be plucked and ugly

Hangin around them old squeegee boys

Man them the motherfuckers that have love for me

They straight cut for me

Deal me, touch me, L-O-V-E

E-to-the-F-to-the-R-T-Y

I spits the shit from the T-O-P

It's me, the E, droppin it nuclear all the time

Motherfucker comin from the motherfuckin MIND

Fuck you niggaz, you think I sell my soul

But I'm way too cold, motherfucker!

Chorus: LeVitti

Sittin in my livin room

Thinkin of, a master plan

Tryin to find a way out

HOW TO STACH the scratch

So I painted me a picture

of a life, to make a dream

Can you feel me now

Ballin outta control, ballin outta control

Fresh off the showroom flo', bought me a ninety-fo'

Now I'm havin long money, like Ross Perot, so take

notes from a big ol' ? pimp, pretty much established

Livin out of hand lavish

Throwin parties ?

with big time folks makin big time cabbage

Become a savage, get swoll by ones

Twenty a drum's established

Six figure digits, just like I tell you like

I got the whole city sewed up in stitches

Your product'll win if you gots top grade

Keep, your law-yers and your bail bondsmen paid

The word on the street's is that I done came up too fast

Motherfuckers want a piece of my soul

Playa haters wanna cut my grass

You don't wanna bring your bitch

to what type of ? out of control sittin on tickets

Million dollar spots, technology chops

and a motherfucker proud fool-assed ridiculous

Straight fuckin em up like that, throw me my strap man

? feel me

Reverend would you put some blessin oil on my head

and hear me

I never sell my soul cause I'm way too cold

Motherfucker! Ballin outta control

Interlud: LeVitti

This ol' game, kids they run

Never get a second chance

so take me to this world

Now there's always time, to getcha

I guess by now you get the picture

of what I'm tryin to say

I'm ballin outta control

"Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin"

"Every other fuckin day I'm tellin my SOHABS OUGHTTA quit"

"Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin"

"We can get it on, we can get it on"

"Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin"

"Forty-Water, straight lettin em know"

"Even though my pocket's fat and my belly's bigger..

gots to come Sic-Sic-Sic-Wid-It"

Throw, the WHOLE

UNIT in a big ass gumbo pot

Full stir

Let it settle to make it lock

Horse races, trips to Vegas, frequent flier

"Whassup you timah, when your ass gonna retire?"

I ain't knowin

Keep tellin myself that I'ma call it quits

But I got myself

Too much motherfuckin cabbage out there runnin in the streets

Lookin up out the way for the one-time

Po-Po Penelope seriously concentratin

Noided as I watch the back for all of my chemistry

cause fools be playa hatin

Lucrative spots and blows, investments bonds and stocks

Esquired land and crops, techno chops and glocks

Cause niggaz be tryin to make movies

when they get all in front of these bootch ass hoochies

I be like poppin the cap like a hungry mother

I ain't even gon' lie I'm to'

Twoasted, looped, to' back, souped

Plastered, puked, on the get back fully recouped

Fuck these niggaz they think I'll sell my soul

But I'm way too cold, motherfucker!