Lyric Big Ballin

I m ballin baby
Gridiron on the beat
Big house, big car
Hoes everywhere, ice everywhere, money everywhere
I m ballin man, I ain t braggin
I m just tellin you what it is like, I m ballin
Knahmtalkinbout? Whattup {?}
I see you on the beat mo betta

[Paul Wall]
I m comin down, candy paint, sprayed by that Eddie
12 coats of that clear lookin like some grape jelly
My paint s drippin wet, my slab is superb
Park the truck and catchin boppers down here in this dirty third
I hold it down for the block bleeders workin overtime
Not concerned at all with petty shit, I m occupied on the grind
I keep my mind on breakin bread, makin chess moevs, thinkin ahead
I soaked up game at a early age, I m built for this, I ma seasoned vet
Swangers symbolize respect, cain t just anybody tip on Vogues
They ll catch you slippin in the turnin lane, and leave ya ass naked walkin home
Candy on chrome is how I drive, with screens fallin in the back of the ride
My music screwed and my drank is purple, go and take a sip I d be obliged
I m comin straight from the land of the fry, the city of syrup and the home of Screw
I m on the block with my potnah Gooch, stashin cash in my Reebok shoe
What that do I can t complain, the candy gloss drippin off the frame
Ball in the mix I m off the chain, it s goin down H-Town

[Chorus]
I m big ballin baby, yeahhh, and I m spendin cheese
I m on my grind all day makin money with ease

[Paul Wall]
I m grippin on that woodgrain, I m sippin on that good drank
I m showin love to every side and every neighborhood mayne
I got them neon lights glowin, representin my block
I m on that 59 South, ridin with my trunk popped
From that Homestead to that Spice Lane, I m on Scott, in the turning lane
I m headed straight to that Timmy Chan s, order up and let s get some wangs
New Hawk on that chan-nel, I m on that dolly right
On the way to my gran-ty house, I m navigated by bubble lights
I m teded{?} by that junior, I m cut up by White Mike
Busted up by that Mr. Davis, sluggin me is a beautiful night
That chrome is quite atrocious, complimented by candy gloss
I m tiptoein on fo swangers, eighty-fo s like Randy Moss
Open mouth and show platinum grill, it s like a disco ball
I got expensive tastes, courtesy of expensive jaws
They see me comin grill and woman, truck bumpin
Knockin pictures off the wall is nuttin cause I m a baller

[Chorus]

[Paul Wall]
When the speakers start bumpin and that fifth relax
I make the trunk dance around like it s doin jumpin jacks
I m ridin on them Spyders, them eighty-fo s tiptoein
And that trunk is exaulted with them neon lights glowin
The candy paint s immaculate, drippin wet up off the fender
Beat the block up like a boxer, chop the street up like a blender
I got the flat screens fallin down from the ceiling
And the platinum mouthpiece with diamonds in the filling
I m big ballin, grippin grain, breakin bread, I m stackin change
Gettin money I m havin thangs with two commas, I can t complain
Drippin candy paint, off the frame, switchin lanes
In the turning lane leavin stains, cause I m a baller

[Chorus]