Songtext:
Intro: Peter Gunz Folienbeschriftungen de Feel it, feel it Coma ona, come on DA, DA, DA Where ya at(where ya at) yo
Verse 1: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze Rice the illest shit & don't smoke no trees Niggas won't test, but they turn around & freeze Might get mic cancer the way I smoke m.c.s
Nigga we did it all from flippin burgs to manipulating words Gettin less than four Os on a check is absurd I got the five it's feasible, but the six is preferred So when I step, you better have my shit corrrect, ya heard
I'm in the ruber in the sand, gettin a tan playin frisbee With this quarter piece, sippin on coladas gettin dizzy On the celly with my broker buyin shares of stock Cause when it stops, I'ma still be sittin in drops
And I'm in a benz, comin through, doin two, pumpin lilo Bought the cut jewels from Tif, cause the feds are watchin Tito Stepped up from an eigth, to a half, to a kilo To makin mils, off this label deal, that's for real yo
Chorus: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
PG: We will ball LT: Until my lady shoppin at Sach's and got the minx on they back, I tell ya PG: We won't fall LT: Until my players on the block doin it and gettin money in stacks, I tell ya PG: We will ball LT: Ladies with the pedicures manicures & they hair done up, I tell ya PG: We won't fall LT: And players ride around in V's pumpin our cd's, just turn it up.
Verse 2: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq
I didn't ball with the best of them Fuck the rest of them Chickenheads don't mess with them Dimes ain't even stressin em It's all about franc & pounds & dinero The same shit that helped me get my six-zero-zero
Nigga we ball, we take it all never dealin we fresh Talk jewels like I had my tongue dipped in platinum Tanqueray get me wet, I'm drippin in activator Drop the top on the porsche, hit the clutch see you later
Well I tried to tell my P-O, screamed on the C-O Before I turn 3-O, I'll be C-E-O Young black millionaire, why you still in there Checkin asses, harass just some herb with the bashes
If gettin money's a crime, well then I'm guilty as charged Filthy rich, Lord built to be large I'll have the city sick Pullin that silver shit out the garage Under the sun with yo chick gettin a massage
Chorus
Verse 3: ?, Peter Gunz, & Lord Tariq Well these bitches tryin to sleep on me Wop You shouldn't sign these niggas down they suckin d Drop And now they wanna sweat cause we double p Stop Got the nerve to call my office for a free cd Cop Man they said we couldn't do it but we it's done And they said we wouldn't win but we won They said it would be better if we run (together) But we ran to the top of the charts Platinum plaques when this rap shit was fallin apart Well she mention little Gunz, Tariq Staring good, take a taste, fix yo face bitch, ain't nothin sweet
We just tryin to eat, the Bronx applyin the heat You estimate a hundred thou, we sold 5 in a week
Chorus
Outro: Peter Gunz We will ball We won't fall We will ball We won't fall We will ball We won't fall
