Rapper's Ball (Clean)

E-40

    Continues after the ad

    E-Feezey!
    Too Scheezy!
    Yeah we off the heezy in this beezy main
    Off the heezy I thought you theezy!!
    Hey man where your boy K-Ceeezi at main??
    Ain't no tellin, ay K-Ci!
    Aight aight get up here and sprinkle some of these fools man
    Lace em up the same Playboy get up!

    [Chorus:]

    Say that you got it all
    Love the way you players ball
    Everyday you're at the mall
    Tell me is it true or false
    Say that you got it all
    Love the way you players ball
    Claimin that your mail is tall
    Tell me is it true or false

    [Verse One: E-40, Too $hort]

    Now I put my back end down ain't never been aside
    I was havin b-r-e-a-d way before this rap game fool I been tapped
    Thought you theezy, for sheezy, fools 'member
    Earl, Brat, and Denell dem boys from Vallel
    At every light it's automatic, BURN RUBBER
    See my folkers in the traffic, WHASSUP ERB
    Follow that cab it got yole in it
    My potnah $hort got some broads in it

    I'm always hearin rappers big ballin on they songs
    I live like that for real and you'll never say I'm wrong
    S-500 straight sittin on twenties
    TV in the dash dippin fast gettin money
    I'm Too $hort baby been down since the eighties
    For the last eight years I've rolled around in a Mercedes
    Lexus, trucks, drop that Caddy
    Women don't call me by my name they call me daddy

    Continues after the ad

    [Chorus]

    [Verse Two: E-40, Too $hort]

    K-Ci $hort E-40 times are really
    I'll probably never have long money like Ross Perilli
    But shit we just want an help
    Don't want the whole plate
    Don't put the two on the ten, don't ever perpetrate
    Like a lot of these fools I see on TV
    With the Armani Chanel Versus Versacci
    How come we can't be broke sometimes?
    Sometimes it's cool to floss
    But don't buy an eighty-five thousand dollar car
    Before you buy a house

    They always said I couldn't rap wit my dirty lyrics
    I guess they fear it, I couldn't hear it
    And now they wanna call me hardcore
    While I be steppin out the shower on a marble floor
    I paid the IRS taxes send FedEx and faxes
    This industry'll never ever see me
    I work hard and don't play handle mine everyday
    anyway cuz I gotta stay paid 40

    [Chorus]

    [Verse Three: E-40, Too $hort]

    With cold parties on big ole boats
    Fools up out they people, ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego Jamaica
    Front row seats at the Ultimate Fights, shamrock and severin
    Long expensive fuh-flights, up dere in the heavens
    Big ole royalty checks, humungous crib
    Smokin bless and drinkin Bruno on the balcony, barbecuin ribs
    The more scrilla, the merrier
    I represent the Ya area

    I walk from Foothill and Tray escort to Sixty-Seventh and Arthur
    To Freddie B's house to make tapes with my potnah
    Hit up Royal Park, we had tapes for sale
    Got a paper bag full of that, can't you tell
    it's funky, everybody nod they head like this
    I started rappin, and everybody read my lips
    I kept mackin, suckin up the game from the O
    and even though a lot of rappers got the same kind of flow
    I survived cuz I got mo', game than them
    It came straight from the bitches, players, and pimps
    It was my destiny, I came the same every time
    So don't question me, I transfer the game in the rhymes

    I'm not a freestyler, don't rap for free main
    It's Paystyle on mine, cuz I love money main
    Landrovers and Toyota, Lexuses
    Six-hundred feet twelve with them big ol motor Mercedeses
    We don't be savin broads, hoes be savin us
    Hoe respect me in my car, baitch best to catch the bus
    I keep a briefcase full of game, while y'all be ear-hustlin
    Ain't no paperback pimp playboy, we ain't strugglin

    [Chorus]

    Song details

    Composition: Earl Stevens, Ant Banks, Todd Shaw, and K. Ci Hailey

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