2 Pac - Str8 Ballin´ lyrics

Album: Thug Life - Volume 1 (1994)

I´d share the definition of ballin´ with you white folks...
but now...
the game is to be sold & not told
So eh, f*ck you

(Tupac)
I am up before the sunrise, 1st to hit the block.
Little bad mothaf*cka with a pocket full of rocks.
Learn to throw them thangs, get my skinny little ass kicked.
And niggas laugh, til´ tha 1st mothaf*cka got blasted.
I put the nigga in his casket,
Now they coverin´ the basket with plastic.
I smoke blunts on a regular buck when it counts.
I am tryin´ to make a million dollars outta quarter ounce.
And gettin´ ghost on the five-o, f*ck them hos.
Got a 45 screamin´ about survival.
Hey nigga can I lay low, cook some yay-yo.
Hollar one-time when I say so.
Don´t wanna go to the pen, I am hittin´ fences.
Narcs on a nigga´s back, missin´ me by inches.
And they say how do you survive weighin´ 165
In a city where the skinny niggas die?
Tell Mama don´t cry.
Even when they kill me,
They can never take the game from a young G.
I am str8 ballin´!

Str8 ballin´!

Still on parole & I am the 1st nigga servin´
pour some liquor on the curb for my niggas that deserve it.
But if I wanna make a million, have got to stay dealin´.
It is kinda boomin´ & today I will make a killin´.
Dressin´ down like a villian´, but only on the block.
It is a clever disguise to keep me runnin´ from the cops.
Ha, I am gettin´ high. I think I will die if I do not get no ends.
I am in a bucket with em ridin´ it like it is a Benz.
I hate to strip let my music bump,
Drinkin´ liquor, & I am lookin´ for some hoes to f*ck.
Rather die makin´ money than live poor & legal
As I slang another ounce, I wish it was a kilo.
A need money in a major way.
Time to f*ck my BEEEYATCH!! Hey!, & getten´ paid
You other mothaf*ckas callin´,
But me & my mothaf*ckin´ thug niggas,
We str8 ballin´!!

Str8 ballin´!

Damned if I do not, & damned if a nigga do.
So watch a young mothaf*cka pull a trigga just to RAISE UP!
But don´t let them see you cry, dry your eyes
Young nigga time to do or die.
I keep a pistol in my pocket,
Ready on my block.
Aint no time for a nigga to even cock shit.
And now they see that mothaf*cka beat pain,
At point blank range cause he slept on the game.
Aint a damned thing changed
Shakin´ the dice, now roll ´em,
If you can not stand pain better hold ´em.
Cause aint no tellin´ what you might roll.
You might go catch AIDS from a slight cold. Nigga.
Better live your life to the fullest,
You ´bout to kill a fool, got a pistol mothaf*cka better pull it.
Cause even when they kill me,
they can never take the game from a young G.
We str8 ballin´!

We str8 ballin´!

To my niggas in the penitentiary,
Loked up like a mothaf*cka when they mention me.
Cause you f*ckin´ with the realest motha f*cka ever born,
And once again it is on,
I am bustin´ on these bitches until they gone.
Who the hell can you get to stop me?
I am in the projects, parlaying with my posse.
I keep my glock cocked
I need it cause they are all shady.
I finally made it
now these jealous bitches tryin´ to FADE me!
I aint goin´ out I would rather blast back.
I am on the corner with my niggas watchin´ cash stack.
And I came up a long way from food stamps.
And takin´ shit from the low-life ghetto tramps.
Could you blame me if they sweat me I am going to open fire.
What could I do? Pull my trigga or watch my nigga die.
I am representin´ to the fullest givin´ devil slugs.
I am on the block slangin´ drugs with the young thugs.
And mothaf*cka, we be ballin´!
All mothaf*ckin´ day long, stay strong!
We str8 ballin´.

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