Chorus: Hawk
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
[Yungstar]
I'ma -- baller, I'ma twenty inch crawler
Blades on Impala, diamond rottweiller
Octane hauler, not a leader not follower
Break these boys off I'ma twenty inch crawler
Bust a left, a right, I'm outta sight I'm throwed
I'm bouncin off the road I'm in a modem with them foe dem
Tiny tune -- hop out my big body form
Chain with the chong, can't forget Moet along
I'm hot, find me lookin good, diamonds against my wood
Man it's understood -- got money in my hood
I'm pushing big body can't stop me
For the nine-eight got to sell a million copy
I'ma crawl slow puffin on the Optimo hit the sto'
I'ma go real slow -- puffin indo out the do'
I'ma lit the stash green, man I'm lookin clean
Want remote control screens with ice bezeltynes
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
[Fat Pat]
Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
Big ballin, smashin, makin my ends
Smokin big killa gettin high in the Benz
In the wind smoke goes as I crawl down on Vogues
Twenty Lorenzo, smoke all up in my nose
Yo' eyes, get froze, as you see my low
Candy-red, two-do', let my top down slow
Hittin, my remote, sittin, in my shit
Presidential V-12 with that AMG kit
It don't quit, as I get high
from K.C. to H-Town, connectin SouthSide
Now we worldwide, watch me highside
Fat Pat blowin killa, can't be denied
187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
Blowin sticky green we flow through and above
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
[Lil' Will]
Sittin' Fat Down South, rollin Benz on blocks
Mo' scrilla I got, signin with Shortstop
And that's for real, so tell me how you feel
to make a million dollars out my first record deal
Shortstop -- puttin up your motherfuckin ear
Really really don't give a fuck and I ain't drinkin on no beer
Codeine what I sip, pistol grip when I ride
Trunk hit fo' life baby it's SouthSide
We on a fuckin mission Expedition Navigator
That's how we be ridin, alligator suitcasin
Puttin it in your face, and that's for real
Shinin harder than the grill it's the player Lil' Will
Down with the 2-Low, Yungstar be a thug
So nigga nigga what? I'm down with my own thugs
Mo' thugs in the pound, you know it's goin down
Represent that H-Town, pop trunks surround by sound
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
[Yungstar]
I gots to get better man, it gots to move on
Switched from Motorola to a PrimeCo phone
Broke in two chrome, now you know no dope pigeon
Used to count my spoke, now these hoes count my inches
Had to get older -- man it got colder
I done got grown and got a chip on my shoulder
Licks in Kuwait, got links in Pakistan
Boys don't understand virtual reality Caravan
Double doors marble floors naked hoes around me
Everytime I'm comin out, niggaz they wanna sign me
Got the Lil' Will diamond grillers ??
Blaze in the Benz and you can't forget the den
The boo went down to Rueben's, I'm watchin on a movie
Drop the top it's cotton, and you know I'm in a jacuzzi
Bourban and I'm swervin, man it's gettin hot
My last name Lemmon, drive my tight'um off the lot, David Taylor
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
[Big T]
I hit the highway
Everything's my way, I par-le
Everyday all day, ain't no way
Boys can't stop as i slide through your neighborhood
Chop chop chop, headed straight to the top
I only play to win -- bout to close up shop
Showstoppin dead end, pimp the pen once again
Peep the message I send
Take these levels that you devils can't comprehend
Big bout it Benz -- as I floss through the south
Big blue lens -- now whatcha talkin about?
Close yo' mouth -- as I settle all scores
Scream and shout -- my similes and metaphors
Mansion doors -- I contstantly close
All you hoes -- go and take off your clothes
Lord knows -- ain't no time to play
Commence to fuckin and-a suckin on the ??
Wanna be a -- baller, shot caller
Twenty inch blades -- on the Impala
A caller gettin laid tonight
Swisher rolled tight, gotta spray my ice
I hit the HIIIGHWAY, making money the FLYYYY WAY
But there's got to be a BETT-ER WAYY!
A better way, better way, YEAH-AHHHH
― amon (eman), Friday, 26 August 2005 23:27 (twenty years ago)
this song is better
Artist: The WhoRidas
Album: Shot Callin & Big Ballin 12"
Song: Shot Callin & Big Ballin
Yeah, it's the WhoRidas baby
Puttin it down for all the shot callas and the big ballas in the town, feel me
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
It all starts off when ya grindin sellin rocks
Then ya mind expands you wanna sew up the block
And be the man so you pull all night shifts, currency flips, like gymnastics
And you gotta stay strapped cause fools be jackin
Leavin niggas missin in action but we ain't havin that
Fat ass gats are tucked tight, as you grind every cop
grind every cop night after night
Young hustlas be at this, tryin to blow up to the kilogram status
And it feels fantastic, cause you know that you on your way
Forty keys a week, knockin off zips a day with no sleep
Passed the peak at forty overtime, hella high sharper than a porcupine (ouch)
Wit your eyes lookin shady, it's big ballin baby
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, the next level, the next level
Shot callin and big ballin, in the game, advance to the next level in the game
Now my pocket done blew up like rockets
Call me NASA, helpin my money get blasted
You can't handle that 69 cancer crowd
Bust a half-a-jacka, in the midst a gettin dealt wit (fo sho)
They call up Silky to con, milk these fools like cows boo-gow
Laya playa down forty letters form the crown
So gettin gee-chee shot callin and ballin through the town
Now how you like us now you probably don't
Cause we be bubblin straight lace hustlin
Don't be trustin fools that be smilin in the face
Schemin like demons on the under for papes
Underground tapes dope sold by crates cause
It's the ballin ass whoridas, call the shots on
playa hatin niggas for they dollas
Wringin collas, makin neighbors holla, smashin off in Impalas (errrrrrr)
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, the next level, the next level
Shot callin and big ballin, in the game, advance to the next level in the game
Now we lettin fools know what time it is wit this here
Cali shots then disappear, and shift the gear
Keep my ear close to the ground, nigga what you hollerin, Westbound
Grew up in dog town, wit a natural perpetual frown,
And it's still on til this day, check the game and peep the play
By hostile big ballas, I got the sauce to set it off
And raise you up from the spot snatch the chamber back
On that G-lock, and let it pop, Ha-San Chop (yeah)
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, advance to the next level in the game
Shot callin and big ballin, the next level, the next level
Shot callin and big ballin, in the game, advance to the next level in the game
Who-ridas, hobo records, hobo junction, the year of the ticket, 96 man
― mucho, Saturday, 27 August 2005 17:59 (twenty years ago)
three years pass...