Intro: Peter Gunz
Feel it, feel it
Coma ona, come on
DA, DA, DA
Where ya at(where ya at)
yo
Verse 1: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze
Rice the illest shit & don't smoke no trees
Niggas won't test, but they turn around & freeze
Might get mic cancer the way I smoke m.c.s
Nigga we did it all from flippin burgs to manipulating words
Gettin less than four Os on a check is absurd
I got the five it's feasible, but the six is preferred
So when I step, you better have my shit corrrect, ya heard
I'm in the ruber in the sand, gettin a tan playin frisbee
With this quarter piece, sippin on coladas gettin dizzy
On the celly with my broker buyin shares of stock
Cause when it stops, I'ma still be sittin in drops
And I'm in a benz, comin through, doin two, pumpin lilo
Bought the cut jewels from Tif, cause the feds are watchin Tito
Stepped up from an eigth, to a half, to a kilo
To makin mils, off this label deal, that's for real
yo
Chorus: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
PG:We will ball
LT:Until my lady shoppin at Sach's
and got the minx on they back, I tell ya
PG:We won't fall
LT:Until my players on the block doin it
and gettin money in stacks, I tell ya
PG: We will ball
LT: Ladies with the pedicures
manicures & they hair done up, I tell ya
PG: We won't fall
LT:And players ride around in V's
pumpin our cd's, just turn it up.
Verse 2: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
I didn't ball with the best of them
Fuck the rest of them
Chickenheads don't mess with them
Dimes ain't even stressin em
It's all about franc & pounds & dinero
The same shit that helped me get my six-zero-zero
Nigga we ball, we take it all never dealin we fresh
Talk jewels like I had my tongue dipped in platinum
Tanqueray get me wet, I'm drippin in activator
Drop the top on the porsche, hit the clutch see you later
Well I tried to tell my P-O, screamed on the C-O
Before I turn 3-O, I'll be C-E-O
Young black millionaire, why you still in there
Checkin asses, harass just some herb with the bashes
If gettin money's a crime, well then I'm guilty as charged
Filthy rich, Lord built to be large
I'll have the city sick
Pullin that silver shit out the garage
Under the sun with yo chick gettin a massage
Chorus
Verse 3: ?, Peter Gunz, & Lord Tariq
Well these bitches tryin to sleep on me
Wop
You shouldn't sign these niggas down they suckin d
Drop
And now they wanna sweat cause we double p
Stop
Got the nerve to call my office for a free cd
Cop
Man they said we couldn't do it but we it's done
And they said we wouldn't win but we won
They said it would be better if we run
(together)
But we ran to the top of the charts
Platinum plaques when this rap shit was fallin apart
Well she mention little Gunz, Tariq
Staring good, take a taste, fix yo face bitch, ain't nothin sweet
We just tryin to eat, the Bronx applyin the heat
You estimate a hundred thou, we sold 5 in a week
Chorus
Outro: Peter Gunz
We will ball
We won't fall
We will ball
We won't fall
We will ball
We won't fall