E-40

E-40

  •  Name E-40
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  • E-40 Big Ballin' With My Homies Lyrics

           

    {editor's note: this is a remake of Sir Mix-a-Lot's "My Posse's on Broadway"}



    [E-40]

    Big ballin' with my homies!

    Big ballin' with my homies!



    Me and my Click-alation, at home away from home

    In the Black Bentley Azura, with the faulty chip phone

    I'm callin up the Mossie, it's time to get bent

    Showcasin and collarpoppin, campaignin like the president

    C-notes, hundred dollar bills

    Playaz wit bread ridin houses on wheels

    Jewels sparklin glistenin gleamin flossy crystal clear

    Baguettes -- hangin from my fist like a chandelier

    Felines holler, scream, "Oooh he got the BUMP!!

    Soundin like Godzilla tryin to get up out the TRUNK!!"

    Jealous mark fuckin suckers wanna battle -- that ain't sharp

    Wig-splitters that'll comb yo' natural, on my squad

    Fuckin em up like that mayne, you know, my.. PANTS saggin

    Look like I done dookied on myself

    Bandana, tatted, swingin em sideways

    Livin lavish -- big ballin on tycoon status, BEOTCH!



    Big ballin' with my homies!

    Big ballin' with my homies! Mossie up!



    Ka-ruise... cruuuuuise...



    Cruisin' Magazine, a Cutlass on them socks

    Rap accumulated papers, so no more slangin rocks

    We don't walk around like peons, instead we's bout our scrill'

    The Click-alation family, straight up out The Hill

    Everytime we do this, Cutlass candy on spoke

    Po-Po billy club us cause they think that we sell dope

    I told em that I rap, I told em that I spit

    E'ry year we ship our cars to the Freak-a-Nik

    Thugs, timers that own barbershops, tow trucks, and clubs

    Homies, that open up they liquor stores on Sunday

    for me, bo-nitch, BOOTCH

    Hood trojan's boss, players from the sticks

    Pocket stuffin, some of the homies hustlin

    Some of my playaz are pimps, some of the homies strugglin

    But none of my folks are simps, marks, nothin of that there magnitude

    Saps, sarches got me twisted, what ch'all do? BEOTCH, BEOTCH!



    Big ballin' with my homies!

    Big ballin' with my homies! C'mon widdit!



    Rrrollin with the Mossie, we never get bored

    There's not another Click, with more points scored

    The breezies by the college, was lookin for a lift

    Tryin to ride in first class and them haters wanna TRIP

    Cause I never liked a sucker, who beat up on they broad

    If you're lackin on your mackin then she's rollin with the squad

    Mossie to the house party, girlies come in twos

    No conversation needed, automatic pick and choose

    Talkin up under your brisneath, hot air?

    Comin off like you some sort of hellafied ass ninja - but youse a square

    Whatchu doin Charlie? Just videotapin myself grindin, Candid Camera

    Coonin' wit mo' scratch den dandra turf boomin'



    Big ballin' with my homies!

    Big ballin' with my homies! Mossie up!

  • See Also Other E-40 lyrics