(talking) Off the heezy baby, knowI'mtalkingbout We gone do this thang till a nigga six feet deep Baby, we gone ball till we die on Wreckshop And all these soldiers, knowI'mtalkingbout KnowI'msaying, Screwed Up Click Laff. Tex, everybody baby you knowI'msaying Partner Big Shots, check it out, check it out
[E.S.G.] Now I know by the year 1999, I'm gone shine The bumping kid gone recline Cause I'ma grind all the way to the summer Then I'ma backdo' with the low Pro Yokohama's And uh, bout to ball, I'ma let the screens fall Then stuff the turkey full of sticky green for all y'all And by this winter, this big money spender I mean a G gone be this sold a ki to Marvin Siller See niggas I get in it, I'm suppose to killa I'm a soldier that the feds can't get close to nigga Bout it Bout it like ? that's for love to forgive you Wreckshop roll with choppers and bitch I kill you Just for fucking with scrilla that's suppose to be in my bank account Fuck a 3 for 10 cause once again we blowing dank by the ounce Cause it's money over here, I match what you spend We balling once again saw the benz with blue lens
[Chorus] I don't see no reason why Me and my g's we can't ball till we die Sipping hennessy, and blowing big smoke Yeah, I bullshit the definition of balling with you white folks I don't see no reason why Me and my g's we can't ball till we die Now you can be a gangsta, pimp, playa, mac or a thug Want all the ballas in the club toss it up what's up
[Noke D] To be a G in New Orleans way down to H-Town I 10 connect, reelect respect with the sound Platinum bound, niggas making money forever Surround sound, rolling Navigators with leather Whoever, want to test this, we can wreck shit Cause the shit don't stop we wreck shop, down in Texas I bet this is the best shit you ever heard From the third, niggas making money with words Your vision's blurred, we drop bombs on al-bums Got em body rocking and shocking down at Vietnam We weather the storm, so bring the rain, sleet or snow Ask your hoe, she know, how we go and we know D baby, I'm still throwed in the game Putting kicks, snares and bass lines to make bang We living these ghetto dreams so I'm flashing my diamond rings My high beams to the sky, it's E.S.G. and I
[Chorus]
[E.S.G.] Twenty five lighters on my dresser, yes sir Twenty five birds in my compressor, bet you Feds won't find the damn onion Cause I ain't tell a soul that I was coming In a state of running back and fourth, can't take no shorts Cause niggas I fuck with, got game like E.A. sports Yes son we in the Source, boy my grill shining Bustas best to plex Wreckshop is still climbing If you want it in this game, you got to get it, get it And once you get a mill ticket niggas will kick it Plus hoe niggas do hoe thangs But I'm a throwed nigga doing throwed thangs So please mama may I, grow up to be a playa It's hard trying to escape uh, these motherfucking hatas I guess you see the platinum rollie and the Wreckshop piece You boys can't hold me down it's my fourth release
[Chorus - 2x]
(talking) Uh, man hold up, what's up D-Reck What's up Noke D baby, you know it's going down Baby, god damn right it's going down It ain't no secret, it's already known Wreckshop baby, L to the throne huh Diamonds gone be shown uh Bank account full grown Gone ball till we gone man what Catch up with P-A-T Start it all over again, uh man, feel that
Al Green lyrics