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Wanna Be A Balla Lyrics

"Wanna Be A Balla" was written by Birklett, Troy / Rhodes, Bruce Isaac / Lemon, Jarvis / Hawkins, John Edward / Prejean, Terence Glen / Hawkins, Patrick L..
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"Wanna Be A Balla" was written by Birklett, Troy / Rhodes, Bruce Isaac / Lemon, Jarvis / Hawkins, John Edward / Prejean, Terence Glen / Hawkins, Patrick L..
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Wanna be a balla, shot caller
Twenty inch blades on the Impala
A caller gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike

I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there's got to be a better way
A better way, better way, yeah ay

I'm a baller, I'ma twenty inch crawler
Blades on Impala, diamond Rottweiler
I-10 hauler, not a leader, not follower
Break these boys off, I'm a twenty inch crawler

Bust a left, a right, I'm outta sight, I'm throwed
I'm bouncin off the road, I'm in a modem with them fo' dem
Tiny tune, hop out my big body form
Chain with the Chong, can't forget Moet along

I'm hot, find me lookin' good, diamonds against my wood
Man, it's understood, got money in my hood
I'm pushing, big body can't stop me
For the nine eight got to sell a million copy

I'ma crawl slow puffin' on the Optimo, hit the sto'
I'ma go real slow, puffin indo out the do'
I'ma lit the stash green, man I'm lookin' clean
Want remote control screens with ice bezeltynes

Wanna be a balla, shot caller
Twenty inch blades on the Impala
A caller gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike

I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there's got to be a better way
A better way, better way, yeah ay

Big ballin', smashin', makin' my ends
Smokin' big killa, gettin' high in the Benz
Big ballin', smashin', makin' my ends
Smokin' big killa, gettin' high in the Benz

In the wind, smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
Yo' eyes, get froze, as you see my low
Candy red, two do', let my top down slow

Hittin' my remote, sittin' in my shit
Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
It don't quit, as I get high
From K.C. to H-Town, connectin' SouthSide

Now we worldwide, watch me high side
Fat Pat blowin' killa, can't be denied
187 thugs, oh yeah, we got love
Blowin' sticky green we flow through and above

Wanna be a balla, shot caller
Twenty inch blades on the Impala
A caller gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike

I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there's got to be a better way
A better way, better way, yeah ay

Sittin' fat down south, rollin' Benz on blocks
Mo' scrilla I got, signin' with Shortstop
And that's for real, so tell me how you feel
To make a million dollars out my first record deal

Shortstop, puttin' up your motherfuckin' ear
Really really don't give a fuck and I ain't drinkin' on no beer
Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
Trunk hit fo' life, baby, it's SouthSide

We on a fuckin' mission, Expedition Navigator
That's how we be ridin', alligator suitcasin'
Puttin' it in your face and that's for real
Shinin' harder than the grill, it's the player Lil' Will

Down with the 2-Low, Yungstar be a thug
So nigga, nigga what? I'm down with Mo'Thugs
Mo'Thugs an' da Bone, you know it's goin' down
Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound

Wanna be a balla, shot caller
Twenty inch blades on the Impala
A caller gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike

I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there's got to be a better way
A better way, better way, yeah ay

I gots to get better, man, it gots to move on
Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone
Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon
Used to count my spoke, now these hoes count my inches

Had to get older, man, it got colder
I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder
Licks in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan
Boys don't understand virtual reality Caravan

Double doors, marble floors, naked hoes around me
Every time I'm comin' out, niggaz they wanna sign me
Got the Lil' Will diamond grillers [unverified]
Blaze in the Benz and you can't forget Den-Den

Boobie diamond rubies, I'm watchin' on a movie
Drop the top, it's cotton, and you know I'm in a Jacuzzi
Bourbon and I'm swervin', man, it's getting' hot
My last name Lemmon, drive my tight'um off the lot, David Taylor

Wanna be a balla, shot caller
Twenty inch blades on the Impala
A caller gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike

I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there's got to be a better way
A better way, better way, yeah ay

I hit the highway, everything's my way, I parlay
Everyday all day, ain't no way
Boys can't stop as I slide through your neighborhood
Chop, chop, chop, headed straight to the top
I only play to win, 'bout to close up shop

Showstoppin' dead end, pimp the pen once again
Peep the message I send
Take these levels that you devils can't comprehend
Big 'bout it Benz as I floss through the south
Big blue lens now whatcha talkin' about?

Close yo' mouth as I settle all scores
Scream and shout my similes and metaphors
Mansion doors, I constantly close
All you hoes, go and take off your clothes
Lord knows, ain't no time to play
Commence to fuckin' and a suckin' on the H.A.W.K.

Wanna be a balla, shot caller
Twenty inch blades on the Impala
A caller gettin' laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by Ike

I hit the highway, making money the fly way
But there's got to be a better way
A better way, better way, yeah ay

Songwriters
BIRKLETT, TROY / RHODES, BRUCE ISAAC / LEMON, JARVIS / HAWKINS, JOHN EDWARD / PREJEAN, TERENCE GLEN / HAWKINS, PATRICK L.

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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