E-40

E-40

  •  Name E-40
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  • E-40 Ballaholic Lyrics

           

    I’m in my Fubu drawers, she in her gown

    Is it some cats tryin’a have at me or is it the canine and the batteram

    Plannin’ on splittin’ my crown but it ain’t gone be too simple

    See I’m a baller, I’ve got bars around the windows, Rottweilers, pits, Akitas

    Doberman Pinchers taped up in the yard With a sign on the fence that reads

    Warning – Beware of Dogs

    Leap like a frog if you feel froggish, nigga leap

    Like to neglect my dogs, starve ‘em, sometimes they don’t eat

    Elroys questioning me about my triple beam – officer, I got proof!

    Po-Po! That’s for weighing nuts and fruits!

    Run with a whole bunch of rugged-ass rowdy knuckleheads – know what I mean

    Big niggas – the size of a football team

    I wear these glasses so I can look like a square but if you ever see me in a

    fight with a bear, don’t help me, nigga help the bear! Me and my whales, we be

    coonin’ – but see you the type of nigga that go in the back room and Beep

    yo’self and act like yo’ pager’s boomin



    (B-LEGIT COMMENTARY)



    I’ll have you know ever since I was ankle low to a centipede’s toe I always

    wanted to flow play pro baseball Weepolization family, that’s my favorite sport

    But instead I’m back and forth to jail and in and out of court

    Serious about my rock shrine I don’t give a fuck how much courage juice you

    had, nigga yo’ mug don’t mean like mine - I bring the noise like a cymbal

    I fuck with 40 nem, make ya stick yo’ pistol out the window

    Y’all otta see me at the state fair showin’ off in front of my broad tryin’a

    win my little nieces

    One of the biggest stuffed animal prices there

    Nickname is Charlie but my street name is EARL!

    Ballaholic like Felix Mitchell newphew little Darryl

    I know the streets like the task force know dope

    I am the streets my ghetto pass can’t be revoked

    Ten percent I pay my tithe forgive me for my sins

    Smoke a ounce a weed a day maybe that’s why I ain’t got no wind



    (B-LEGIT COMMENTARY)



    You can call me Lawry’s cause I’m seasoned I eat crevey – but not when it’s

    bleedin’

    Don’t get me wrong I love sex but I don’t play that part

    I love Virginia – but not when the Virginia’s tart

    And if it’s good then I might Dolce & Gabbana it

    Gave yo’ ass some bread and let you go buy up some shit

    Callin’ yo’self takin’ advantage of my riches

    I’m tryin’a be nice to yo' ass, I normally talk bad about you bitches

    Inducted into the hall of game back in the via

    Notorious for slappin’ chicken heads upside they weava wit my nokia

    Mayday mayday I can’t call it all patrol cars and units be on the lookout for

    the hillside finagler forty water the ballaholic

    I’d rather fly than ride Amtrak! When I’m in Dallas I fuck with C-Bo and Go

    Hard Black

    Maka opera singer want to write some raps

    I'm papered uuup! (like who?) Like a fax



    (B-LEGIT COMMENTARY)



    If you's a ballaholic…you’s a baller.

  • See Also Other E-40 lyrics

       


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