Ballin' on a Budget (Tight Vocal up Version)

歌詞

Ballin' On A Budget (by:Nappy roots) (Nigga) (Pimpin') I'm just a, big bang baller on a budget Dank weed, smokin like "fuck it" City slicker, country nigga, reppin straight from Kentucky Horseshoes and rabbit paws flossin, chicken closs for the lucky 4 leaf clovers, Range Rovers, so they know the tailpipe's rusted (Pimpin') Country cookin, dog fightin, big-body ridin Chillin like a mug in Western Kentuck', showin love Summertime a funner time, smoke and gunner time Sippin Sprite and somethin dark, every fuckin time (Pimpin') Uhh, okay watch how the po' folk ball Stomp through to mall in my overalls, the black Girbaud No pager, no cellphone, no access at all Just a pack of Dutch Masters and a pint of alcohol (Pimpin') My hooptie, with a down crew like Boots said You don't Perm , Fuck a fade let my hair swang back and forth like a germ Ill nigga with sick shit, pull out this and stick it in this thick chick Baby mama drama, child support court and ain't worth the riskits (Chorus) Whattcha know about them backwood country folk? Whattcha know about the 'Lac chrome hundred spoke? Jimmy Crack Corn; no fade, no comb Whattcha know about ballin on a budget pro? I'm just ballin on a budget jigga (jigga) I'm just ballin on a budget jigga (jigga) I'm just ballin on a budget jigga (jigga) It's the N the A the P-P-Y (Pimpin') Pull up, dear horns on the hood of my truck Kentucky Mud on my shoes and my socks Hungry Jack, feather tryna stuff some food in my gut Country cat in the cowboy hat I'm front to back put the house on that (Pimpin') candy yam's,chittlins,greens and smoke country ham, chicken wangs,cornbread granny in the kitchen throwin down, eat good tryinna smoke somethin',run up on a pound, roll somethin,go ta vagas try ta stuff em' with the ounce, (Pimpin') hummin, mama cookin that mean it's sunday monin', half a pint of bootleg jin will keep me goin', fat knot,pool shot,bad daylight,cigars and happy bags, man we stay high (Pimpin') Aww man, we go back, like sweet pickle book clubs Nigga that was good love, summertime blazzin in a foot tub Damn that shit hurt, and my jams in that shirt Atari 26, one stick, never worked (Chorus) (Pimpin') Comin up in the woods, all I did was run barefoot Ne'er could comb my hair good My hairline grew like ten pound vines 'Tween my rib and my underware It's still a thin brown line, shit (Pimpin') Chores did, and ma work out on the clothin line Cool as shit, country boys out on the grind River views, picknic, big ticks covered the place Folks visit, and make it apparent to come back again (Pimpin') Look here, see I smoke like a fire and a drink like a fish That's it, ecstasy just ain't on my list No comb, no brush, no fade, no pick No shit, no hair and you get no dick (Pimpin') Now we love them gals that love themselves, them southern bells Them Clydesdale Kentucky gals, with muddy tails We cut them gals, new veils, no wedding bells Trick on cheap hotels, KY gels and nothin else (Chorus)