Big Ballin’ (Playin’ to Win)

Lyrics

[Intro: King T] Ha, on the lay back [Verse 1: King T] Straight hustlin' going on, now, let's begin The master of the ceremony just walked in With his little homies and the fifth of Hen No hatin' in my game cause I'm playin' to win Now, niggas need to know I've been a G since six Breakin' fools off when they step up in my mix Catch a young nigga with some brand new kicks Man, he comin' up out of them, holdin' his lips Just a real young nigga but I threw 'em like Spinks Blue and black Gulf hats and Turkish links Moved up to leather coats, got my bitch wearin' minks Sittin' in the Coupe, smokin' pounds a day Just because I got chips I remained the same Niggas recognize the real when I'm shootin' my game A bullet in your chest won't be no strange But if I put it in your brain it won't be no pain Ballin' out of control and I can never get choked I got a loaded Chrome .45 that I tote Asked any hustler: T be goin' for broke? Undercover with the locs and them luxury spoke But, when it's time to floss, I hit the safe for some ends Choose between the Caddi' or the Lexus or the Benz I told you at the top, now, I tell you again Straight hustlin' going on, let the games begin Let's get down [Hook: RC] It's that's sound you can't deny Everything we do is fly I'm big ballin', playin' to win Just the players stayin' true Blowin' chronic smoke at you Everything is ballin' [Verse 2: King T] Soon as I pull the Lex-o out the garage Player haters run to get the fuck outta dodge I try to shoot em game but they tried to act hard They chose to live small while I gots to live large Don't tell these hoes that I'm broke, nigga please I never leave my crib without at least three Gs Lookin' like a nigga just shipped twenty ki's Keep myself distant from ticks and flees Keep type of tire bald head like Shenay Fuck tellin', Condo Rolex is parvay King T's the nigga that them punks can't fade They're tryin' change these hoodrats I'm tryin' to stay paid (*female laughter*) I treat the Benz like the old girlfriend Hook that hoe up and let my niggas take a spin You said you got the chronic, I break out the skin Hustlin' going on and I'm playin' to win Get down [Hook: RC] Got my whole crew comin' down Sippin' Mo' and dodgin' clowns I'm big ballin' Awww yeah, just a hustler playin' true Blowin' chronic smoke at you Everything is ballin' [Verse 3: King T] Straight fact, I push up on the mic with more heat Warning mothafuckers that we can't be beat From Compton, on up to east Long Beach That nigga King T makes the drive-by complete *gunshot* I know you've been told, we got the west coast sold I know you've been taught, we can't be caught So if you're lookin' for them G's on the west side trippin' Probably in the rag '64 just dippin' The ave's so hot, the CD keep skippin' While the little homies on the block checkin' the grip So come on by, and throw your set real high Niggas get smoked tryna fuck with my supply And I supply, what you can't go by That west coast gangsta funk, it won't die Niggas might lie but I tell you the truth The Hub City's in the house, settin' fire to the roof Let's get down [Hook: RC] Yes, that's true, you can't deny Everything we do is fly I'm big ballin', yeah, oooh Just the players stayin' true Real with chronic smoke and you Everything is ballin' [Outro: RC] Nah, nah, nah nah nah, we're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, we're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, we're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, we're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, we're big ballin' Nah, nah, nah nah nah, we're big ballin'