Lil’ Troy – Wanna Be A Baller Lyrics

[Fat Pat:]
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her getting laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got 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

[Yungstar:]
I’m a baller, I’m a twenty-inch crawler
Blades on Impala, diamond rottweiller
I-10 hauler, never leader not a 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 bouncing off the road I’m in a mode with them foe them
Take it to ’em
Hop out my big body form
Chain with the charm, can’t forget Moët along
I’m hot, find me looking 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’mma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the store
I’mma go real slow
Puffin indo out the door
I’mma lit the stash green, man I’m looking clean
Want remote control screens and nice Byzantines

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her getting laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got 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

[Fat Pat:]
Big balling, smashing, making my ends
Smoking big killa getting high in the Benz
Big balling, smashing, making my ends
Smoking big killa getting high in the Benz
In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
Your eyes, get froze, as you see my low
Candy-red, two-door, let my top down slow
Hitting, my remote, sitting, in my shit
Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
It don’t quit, as I get high
From K.C. to H-Town, connecting SouthSide
Now we worldwide, watch me highside
Fat Pat blowing killa, can’t be denied
187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
Blowing sticky green we flow through and above

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her getting laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got 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

[Lil’ Will:]
Sittin’ Fat Down South, rolling Benz on blocks
More scrilla I got, signing with Shortstop
And that’s for real, so tell me how you feel
To make a million dollars out my first record deal
Shortstop putting up your motherfuckin’ ear
Really really don’t give a fuck and I ain’t drinking on no beer
Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
Trunk hit for life baby it’s SouthSide
We on a fuckin’ mission Expedition Navigator
That’s how we be riding, alligator suitcasin
Puttin’ it in your face, and that’s for real
Shining 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 going down
Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her getting laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got 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

[Yungstar:]
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 coming out, niggas they wanna sign me
Got the Lil’ Will diamond grill in my grin
Blaze in the Benz and you can’t forget DenDen
Boobie diamond Ruby’s, I’m watching on a movie
Drop the top on Scott, and you know I’m in a jacuzzi
‘Burban and I’m swerving, man it’s getting hot
My last name Lemon, drive my tight’um off the lot, David Taylor

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her getting laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got 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

[Hawk:]
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 about 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 Body Benz
As I floss through the south
Big blue lens
Now what you talking about?
Close your 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 sucking on the H.A.W.K

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her getting laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got 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

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