I'm A Baller

[talking]

Ok (believe that) we broadcasting live

From Redd's showroom ya heard me (off top)

We still balling, we still doing this shit ya heard me

We still in it (believe that) it's that flame shit

[Yung Redd]

The wheels on my truck, go round and round

I'm sitting 24 inches, off of the ground

How that sound, mama said do what you'd like

Hold it rocking flights, red, white and blue stripes

But hold up, down South still on nonstop

Cause we been representing down here, for a while

With no solo album, I was still amazing

Stayed full of them trees, I was purple hazing

Look at me now, Redd ain't playing around

Two skinny, but my stacks keep weighing me down

They say balling is a habit no, I can't help it

Now I got more green, than a Boston Celtic

So I'm going all out, on a money route

Now I think these niggas, really know what I'm about

I don't know where you been, I don't know where you from

But around these parts, we get it how it come

[Chorus x2: Chamillionaire]

See I'm a flosser, balling like you see it

Recognize me as a balla, legend in the streets

Best believe I did it all but, that will never stop me

From feeling like a flosser, cause I'm a balla

[T.C.]

I'm still in the game, y'all catch my drift

I got that work cheap dog, peep my flip

When I hop out the truck, y'all catch my drift

The rolly's so icy, bitch get off my dick

We ride the finest cars, you know we stay stunting

Rims so big on the six, they sit funny

If it ain't broke don't fix it, blunt it and blist it

In a all blue something, with the plates unlisted

Like Nike, keeping you bitch niggas in check

Yeah whodi you know me, they boy is back

With two bricks, two chicks and two platinum Macks

I stay grinding, so you know I stay shining

[Chorus x2: Chamillionaire]

[Yung Redd]

See I'm like a value meal, my doe supersized

Copping a brand new Bentley, Coupe to ride

With mo' cake than a bakery, we got cream

Candy truck radio up, like Raheim

7-1-3 nigga, that's the name of my team

We still get full of that syrup, and gangsta lean

I still be ghetto fab, if I drove a yellow cab

Yung Redd enough said, my niggas got cash

Don't get it twisted up, my wrist lit up

You gotta show me something, for me to get up

Just call me a rough neck, but I cash enough checks

To put me in a Vet, and roll off with a set

The streets give me respect, for everything that I did

As a kid I always kept a strap, close to my ribs

But I don't know where you been, and I don't know where you from

But around these parts, we get it how it come

[Chorus x2: Chamillionaire]