Big Ballin' (Playin 2 Win) Songtext / Lyric

Straight hustlin' going on, now, let's begin

The master of the ceremony just walked in

With his little homies and the fifth of Hin'

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 kids

Many comin' up out of him, holdin' his lips

Just a real young nigga but I threw them like spinks

Blew them black Gulf hats and turned to your slings

Moved up the Leather Coat got my bitch wearin' wings

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 contral 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 games begin

It's that's how'd 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'

Soon as I pull the Lex-o out the garage

Player haters run to get the fuck out of the Dodge

I tried to shoot to gain but they tried to act hard

They chose is 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 shift twenty ki's

Keep myself distant from tiks and flees

Keep type of tire bald head like Shenay

Fuck tellin, Condo Rolex is parvay

King Tee is the nigga that them punks can't fade

They're tryin' change each hood as I'm tryin' to stay paid

I treat the Benz like the old girl friend

Hook that ho 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

Got my whole crew comin' down

Sippin' Mo' and dodgin' clowns

Awww yeah, just a hustler playin' true

Blowin' Chronic smoke at you

Everything is ballin'

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 Tee makes the drive-by complete (*Gun Shot*)

I know you've been told, we got the Westcoast sold

I know you've been taught, we can't be caught

So if you're lookin' for them T's on the westside trippin'

Probably in the Rag '64 just dippin'

The ave is 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 tryin' to fuck with my supply

And I supply, what you can't go by

That westcoast gangster funk, it won't die

Niggas might lyin' but I tell you the truth

The Hup City is in the house, settin' fire to the roof

Yes, that 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'

Everything is been 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'

Nah, nah, nah nah nah, We're big ballin'