Starlito - Ballin lyrics

rate me

Ft. Kevin Gates & Juicy J

(Hook x2)

I'm ballin' ballin' ballin' bitch

Don't know what else to call it, shit!

All these dollas I brought with me

I fuck around spend all this shit

I fuck around spend all this shit

I fuck around spend all this shit

(Verse: Starlito)

I started off fucked up, finally got my weight up

Still tryna figure out, what the fuck ya hating fo?

When I come around it feel just like an appraisal

Independent nigga gettin' it in just like the majors

Countin' thru the check feel like a nigga turning pages

If ya were cool ya ain't no more, you've done us both a favor

Eighties baby, grew up on a pistol and a pager

Got a free quarter ounce, I bet a hunid on the Lakers

I should say against em, ya know I'm ridin' with the heat

With the karma stole my box Chevy

Box of rubbers, box of swisha sweets

Still got a bitch that'll get yo bitch to leave

Switch up freaks like I swap my whips

Shit ain't real as shit to me!

(Hook x2)

I'm ballin' ballin' ballin' bitch

Don't know what else to call it, shit!

All these dollas I brought with me

I fuck around spend all this shit

I fuck around spend all this shit

I fuck around spend all this shit

(Verse 2: Juicy J)

I get to the money, partner, you too broke to talk to me

I been countin' all this week, on top of my shit like a toilet seat

I'm rich just like I owe da B, and beein' real don't cost a fee

Tell yo girl come ride with me

Big buffee, all she can eat

Loudpack in a mason jar

Driving slew in a race car

This yella bitch I'm in traffic with

She fine as shit and she day far

Now this hoe can he my wife

And to make sure she roll mommy a-ride

Made my ass so low, it looks like it finna cook beef on rice

I'm ballin', ballin', ballin' bitch

And the car cost like 40 bricks

Pour that case of Sprite and I'mma pour lean in all this shit

These niggas ain't thrill, these niggas police and on the low

Take a nigga bitch, leave out the club

So he can put an APB on that hoe

(Verse 3: Kevin Gates)

Screech fo no reason, Saved By The Bell

This bitch to the right, pretty face, tall, white

With a smile like Lisa, big booty diva

Broke a brick down, meet a banda there

And three hundred fo the oz of rheefa

Twenty five bags of the OG kush

And the grandaddy perco weakon

Zansa tabs in the air, no slab, but thank God fo my people (omg)

On the road doing show after show after show and I still eat good all features

Clunkin', gold, and tweakin' if the streets ain't got no lean

Say they bought like nine fifty fo the seal I say I need it

Took time, this crooks fine

Had bad karma, I shook mine!

Jab good, slip excellent

Uppercuts, my hook's fine

Refrigeration, illustration, ice on, got niggas hatin'

Foreign whip, foreign bitch

What that is? Immigration!

Overcooked dope bags cocaine if it cook too long then they may complain

Dope game both lays won't say no names, dope made propane, won't make no change

From the ghetto us I swerve that's why I'm ballin', I'm ballin', if you've got a prolem with it I ain't sorry, I ain't sorry.

(Hook x2)

I'm ballin' ballin' ballin' bitch

Don't know what else to call it, shit!

All these dollas I brought with me

I fuck around spend all this shit

I fuck around spend all this shit

I fuck around spend all this shit