Legit Ballers

Once again, another Trax Productions
Rush for the 9-8, mobsta elites
Ain't it a shame how we make ballin' look so sweet
Especially when you ain't gotta hide your shit

You know what I'm sayin', you can just ball for free
Campaignin' your nation, in a legit demonstration
And gotta face incarceration
Eh yo, Liffy Stokes, let 'em know what's happenin'

A nigga been hustlin' so long, God knows I've done so much wrong
I was 16 grown and holdin' chrome, servin' blows, we in zones
My moms didn't understand me
Boy, you gon' die just like your daddy
From two to the head, dumped in the riverbed
I didn't mean to hurt you so badly

I was young and dumb, fast life sprung
Off the money and tricks that it brung
Had a clip full of hollows to bring your momma sorrow
But now regret what I've done

Drama's all in the game, was it gang bang or slay
I had to do my thang
When the shots rang, that's when it clicked in my brain
All the shits the same
My nigga need a change, I had to get up out these streets
To get you out your seat

Flip a Trax beat, hit the crib and puff on a sweet
And let 'em feel something deep
Deep so the realest can feel
How I felt right before I bust that steel
Rappin' about my life of screel
And the everyday struggles of a nigga in the chill

Come on and take a lil trip with a legit balla
Chi-shot callers
(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)
Tigers wetter than the wall
(Some bitches in the back and a pocket full of stacks, take a match and spark up a lil bud and get blown away)
Come on and take a lil trip with a legit balla

Chi-shot callers
(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)
Tigers wetter than the wall
(Some bitches in the back and a pocket full of stacks, take a match and spark up a lil bud and get blown away)
This shit I've been tokin on's potent
Got me straight thinkin' about takin' Mary Jane and eloping

Blowin' smoke with the sunroof half-way opened
Calico with the scope in close range
I guess he gotta aim, and stick a few thangs
In a nigga's brain

No face straps we be thinkin' that he can
Puttin' food on table is an everyday strain
But now I did finally flip my shit legit
And workin' a different angle of the game

Even though my hussle ain't changed
I'm still prayin' my best presence to overcome my pain
Singin' tapes of Cain
The roads to riches seems longer than the freight train
And every little stop give a nigga time to plot
On the paper you done gain until you drain

But I put that on the floor
I'ma flow 'til I got no choice, or better yet no voice
But still by that time I hope to write enough rhymes
To own a fleet real estate with a Rolls Royce

Rollin' deep through these Chi-Town streets
With my mobsta elites on the way to the Riverside Mall
Givin' thanks to the all for givin' me a legit where to ball at
Keepin' shit tight for y'all
Come on and take a lil trip with a legit balla
Chi-shot callers

(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)
Tigers wetter than the wall
(Some bitches in the back and a pocket full stacks, take a match and spark up a lil bud and get blown away)
Come on and take a lil trip with a legit balla
Chi-shot callers
(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)

Tigers wetter than the wall
(Some bitches in the back and a pocket full stacks, take a match and spark up a lil bud and get blown away)
On the bus in disgust with a 8-ball full of rocks in my pocket
Nickel sacks in the other
For po-pos who watch, can't stop, it's hot
But I gotta make a profit for my baby and my mother

Straight up hustler
What's the mental frame of mind
That nigga had to have the roll
Be sold, or be poor up in these city streets

Or with the pistol playin' for you Mr. Reaper
Forgive those, I explode like C-4 so give me 50 feet
Bustin shots in every direction
A nigga stoppin my money from getting made
I done witnessed public aid, people get sprayed, the tip raise
And momma cry, why my bills can't get paid

If I have to I'ma send cheese from blows
Nobody can hurt me or run thugsta greed, GD's or foes
Workin' the spot 'cause we need some clothes
Who ever thought I'd be making money off of my CD's and shows

My crib got gats in the hall, rats steady crawl
Roaches comin' out the cracks in the wall
On the tip, bust it with my back to the wall
Work my way up to an ounce, now I'm back to a ball

Now I fin to spend stacks at the mall
Bend the blocks on barbers hopin' my profits stack a bit taller
Twista AKA 'The Bitch Caller', bring your money to the mob
Just to be a pimp-shit talker

Come on and take a lil trip with a legit balla
Chi-Shot callers
(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)
Tigers wetter than the wall
(Some bitches in the back and a pocket full stacks, take a match and spark up a lil bud and get blown away)
Come on and take a lil trip with a legit balla
Chi-Shot callers
(Shot up the chrome and let's swang)
Tigers wetter than wall
(Some bitches in the back and a pocket full stacks, take a match and spark up a lil bud and get blown away)
If it's on, I gotta ride out with my mobstas, hmm-hmm
If it's on, then I gotta ride out with the mobstas, hmm-hmm
If it's on, I gotta ride out with my mobstas, hmm-hmm
If it's on, I gotta ride out with my mobstas, hmm-hmm
La-da-da, la-da-da, da-da-da-da, da-da
(Mobstas)
La-da-da, la-da-da, da-da-da-da, da-da
(Mobstas)
La-da-da, la-da-da, da-da-da-da, da-da
(Mobstas)
If it's on, I gotta ride out with my mobstas hmm-hmm
(Mobstas)



Credits
Writer(s): Carl Terrell Mitchell, Samuel C. Lindley, Calvin Thomas, Jabari Bristow
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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