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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Raheem presents Drama Tight two motherfucking Def Get at they ass, boy! [Chorus] Ice on my wrist, I'm ballin', man Hos on my dick, I'm ballin', man Cases of Crystal, I'm ballin', man Shoes of crocodile, I'm ballin', man House on the lake, I'm ballin', man Tight Two Def straight pushing weight, I'm ballin', man Dubs on the Lex', I'm ballin', man Cashing eight figure checks, I'm ballin', man Yo, yo, yo, yo, Drama, how you doing it? Me and my niggas - we riding dirty from Charleston to Texas Bowling ball paint job with Ds on the Lex Beamers and Cadillacs, Optimos and fat sacks We trained for combat; you wrong, then we attack We ride like Desperado on the spokes goldened out Keep cheese in the pockets And keep our distance from cop blockers AK on the front seat for any drama I may meet My pager off killing hos, providing them Bs and Vogues Clientelle getting bigger while calculating money figures More realer than Rockafeller, more cheese than Donald Trump Niggas - they hear me, they want to kill me like JFK Why? 'Cause I ride tight, on out of sight It might be the hos, or could it be that I ride on Vogues? My trunk is filled with speakers; I know damn well you hear me Got a torch, you see me Hundred spokes that beaming Niggas plotting - they haters And busters - they want to be me [Chorus] In the club I'm balling, bitch; now show me love Bossalinie, Versace shoes, with some Gator boots Dom Perion, it's on now through the early morn' Fuck a hobby, man, 'cause balling be my occupation Playa hating ass nigga; can't take the temptation Want to rush me, then bust me, then leave me fucked in the game All because I drained his bitch; now partners use his name See the spokes, and how the gleaming make 'em want to scheme Eighty-five Chevy Caprice off on some Dayne-Daynes Paint job, be clocking miles with some blowed brains Twenty and bubble, gon' buy the Reeboks - now them some shoes With the nine up on the seat - that's where it's supposed to be For them bustas and them haters that want to touch a G Put it down and moved on up too, like me George Jefferson Fuck the law, and fuck the pen, because I'm ballin', man Loved the living, I'm dedicated all to the game I'm ballin' man [Chorus] When I'm heated in the club, around twelve o' clock All eyes on a playa, 'cause I'll blow up the spot You can hate; we blowing clouts in the V.I.P. Ballers sport rims like they stars of films My money's too un-fadable for them too-tight crews And tear da roof off this bitch with this Tight Two Def shit Nigga knocking, ho jocking, 'cause this shit don't quit In the club V.I.P till the early morning Cases of Crystal, even Dom Perion A McGuyver Road nigga, so you know I don't play But if it come down to it, I got my K Fuck the flexing, 'cause we ballin', shot callin', and stacking And if it come down to the gunplay Tight Two Def ain't lacking Your money ain't long enough for me, so, ho, don't talk 'Cause down here in Atlanta, nigga, we walk the walk I say it loud and clear I'm ballin' man [Chorus] |