8BALL

8BALL - Slab Rider lyrics

[Intro: MGJ]

Huh, yeah, ‘Ball you could dig this one ponta

Got that boom, huh, boom-boom, boom, boom

[Chorus x2: Children]

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Orange Mounder, Third-Coast Sider

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Big hydro, fifthteen riders

[verse 1: Eightball]

Who wanna ride wit the big ‘Ball

I’m fo’ do’s, I got room enough for all of y’all

If you don’t know me I’m the one they call the "Fat

Mack"

I’m givin’ instructions on, "How to Lace a Phat Track"

I come from hard times hopin’ I’m never goin’ back

Never thought that all of this would come from writing

raps

Big money, big grills, big cars

Women used to trip, now they wanna know who we are

I stayed the same ­ while everything around me changed

My old ponta’s locked up ­ fuckin’ wit them thangs

It’s not a game, really it’s a damn shame

‘Cause if I wasn’t here I’d probably be wit them mane

Thank the Lord I’m not, knock on wood baby

This whole world crazy, everybody livin’ shady

And I’m stuck in the middle stayin’ true to myself

I can’t be nobody else, tell’ em who I am...

[Chorus x2: Children]

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Orange Mounder, Third-Coast Sider

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Big hydro, fifthteen riders

[verse 2: Eightball]

From Lamar Cove and Orange Mound

To Bill St. where the legendary put it down

Memphis, Tennessee is where I got my home training

In the streets instead of sittin’ at home complainin’

Mississippi, Arkansas, and everything in-between

I know it’s real, but it all feels like a dream

In New Orleans ­ smokin’ out wit my dogg Woo

When done seen so much shit between me and you

Nashville I’ma holla at my nigga C

All my niggas, oh yeah rest in peace P

Dallas, I’m wit Rally at Phenomena

Houston ­ I’m everywhere, holla at me Ma’

But it ain’t nothing like them thick-ass Georgia

peaches

Sweet fruit and they never are out of season

It don’t matter if you in the ghetto or the ‘burbs

Ask somebody, who’s that... and they’ll say...

[Chorus x2: Children]

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Orange Mounder, Third-Coast Sider

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Big hydro, fifthteen riders

[verse 3: Eightball]

My nigga G in V.I.P, in St. Lou’

Duke and Coo’ runners in Miami ­ can’t forget you

Jacksonville, Tallahassee, Sapp smokin’ wit me

Me and Moss in Minnesota smokin’ green-sticky

Dave and 'Toine got my back when I’m in the Apple

My cousin Forty got me drinkin’ E&J and Snapple

Louisville, Money Mike what’s the deal baby

All my Alabama niggas keep it real baby

O.H and the Dime always on my mind

Cleveland to Cincinnati hoes so fine

Detroit all the way to Flint, Michigan

I spanked this broad but I really wanted to spank her

friend

Nappy City where the thugs keep it real gritty

Chi-Town ­ where you might loses yo’ life quickly

From the streets, to the clubs, to the stage

Ask about ‘Ball, and they all gone say...

[Chorus x2: Children]

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Orange Mounder, Third-Coast Sider

He is the ­ Slab Rider

Big hydro, fifthteen riders

[Children x2]

Keep ridin’, ridin’, ridin’, Eighball just keep on

ridin’

Keep ridin’, ridin’, ridin’, Orange Mound and

Third-Coast Sidin’

[Outro: Eightball]

Yeah, yeah Fat Boy... representin’ you know what I’m

talkin’ ‘bout

Like always baby, stay shocked out, to all my real

niggas stayin’ down

Stayin’ true, ya know what I’m sayin’

We gone get this money baby, we gone do it how it go,

yot know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout

Yeah, we gone grind, we gone hustle

All them boys that didn’t think we could do it, the

doubters, the haters we gone do it for them

We doin’ it for the doubter and haters, the one that

think we can’t do it, yeah this for you

Straight from them slab riders, them niggas that be

grindin’ for real, them niggas that be hustlin’ for

real

Them niggas that be on the streets

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