- Votes:
- Composers:
- Wesley Weston
- Y
 
- See also:
Chamillionaire - Im A Balla lyrics
(feat. Far East, Play-N-Skillz, Lumba)
 [Chorus - Chamillionaire]
 I'm A Balla, I walk the walk bruh
 I'm not a talker
 I keep it pimpin' so these women 'll pay me
 If you a balla, and bout ya dollars
 Then throw ya hands up if you gettin' it daily
 Don't even talk uh, bout what it cost ya
 If you ain't really out there gettin' it baby
 If you a balla, and a shot calla
 Then throw ya hands up if you gettin' it daily
 [Verse - Chamillionaire]
 Koopa, I got comma's and zero's
 And alot of robert deniro
 I know hoes that love other hoes
 that'll get down in a trio
 But it ain't nothin' to me though
 I'ma grinder, yall know my steelo
 Got no record or no P.O
 but I dodge police like I'm Neo, nigga we know
 Far East and Chamillionaire
 gon' bring 4 stacks then spend a pair
 Throw 2 other stacks in the air
 We stepped in here like G-G-G'yeah
 You a balla, let me see it
 You a shot caller, let me see it
 Bout them dollars, let me see it
 Pop ya collar, G-G-G'yeah
[Chorus]
 [Verse - Play]
 Whomp! Whomp!, I'ma head bussa
 I'ma keep on paper chasin'
 servin' all these muthafucka's
 I'ma keep on ridin'
 ain't no way yall gonna ever touch us
 I'ma keep on chiefin', puffin'
 chokin' on that charlie dutchey
 And I keep one on my side
 that's my only buddy buddy
 I'm movin' weight, like the nutty professor
 better get ya change up ooh yessuh
 Better pack that metal, they'll test ya
 Stain chain, gotta hit em' hard
 when I roll that truck like Pastor Troy
 24's in my ? bump
 Better get em' boy, sick em' boy
 Gotta make that money, rip em' boy
 Like a pitbull dog, I'll sick em' boyChamillionaire - Im A Balla - http://motolyrics.com/chamillionaire/im-a-balla-lyrics.html
 Here we came to bring in noise
 You a balla, let me see it
 You a shot caller, let me see it
 Bout them dollars, let me see it
 Pop ya collar, let me see it
[Chorus]
 [Verse - Far East]
 -Yeah, Play F, Skillz
 No matter what they say
 No matter what they do
 Muthafucka's ain't got no clue
 Of what we tryna do
 Ride in coupes, ride on Koopa, who what?
 Do what?, muthafuckas you ain't clappin' my crew
 Keepin' it gangsta, plus yall lack
 Black on Black, ridin' Jordans
 That ain't Coogi homie, quit cappin' you can't afford it
 That's how it go, doin' shows, puffin' dro, bangin' beats
 Far East, from Dallas, Tex, but TL call me Greg Street
 [Verse - Skillz]
 Me and Koopa not some hoopers, but we ballin'
 I see you actin' stupid, better move it or ya fallin'
 Pausin', never keep it movin' like my rims
 They say I'm clever, but it's the cheddar I spend that's makes me win
 If you a baller then dribble til' ya hands get tired
 Cuz that's the way my wrist feels when I'm tryna raise it higher
 You a balla, let me see it
 Shot caller, let me see it
 Bout them dollars, let me see it
 Pop ya collar, let me see it
[Chorus]
 [Verse - Lumba]
 Like where do I start, or where do I begin
 When it comes to ballin' and flossin', I shine like them rims
 That's intend to spin, act like a crip, nah fuck it dog
 Act like a chimp, like crooked monkeys throwin' up sets
 You ain't no throw em' up click, you used to throwin' up bricks
 We pro-ballers down south daddy, empty the clips
 I got 5 in my eye, I need 10 on my wrist
 So while I'm flippin' ya bitch, I put 10 to the lips
 It's just that young boy Lumba
 who's known to bump a
 take over the industry, while these other rappers crumble
 I'ma balla, you can see it
 I'ma shot caller, you can see it
 I'ma flosser, you can see it
 Superstar, gonna be it













