ANDRE NICKATINA & EQUIPTO

ANDRE NICKATINA & EQUIPTO - Balla Race lyrics

[Hook: x2]

You in a balla race, tryin to get all in a balla's face

Workin you hips at a balla pace

Wanna see how sweet a balla taste

You in a balla place

[Andre Nickatina:]

Man, I'm a semi-automatic, gotta get the cabbage

It's worser than religion man it's worser than a habbit

Work those heels make sue they don't break

How much dough can a sucka whick make

Roller Coaster baby let 'em ride

Do what you do but don't brake your stride

Four door car son in Las Vegas nights

My Gators so new that they still might bite

I'm gettin money, cause I run red lights

And my super witch is super tight

Man you coulda been foolin me, tryin to give me fake jewelry

Rap cat chargin choose a fee

Peel bread or you losin me, like I'm stolen, it's golden

And I'm rollin and I'm holdin

On a knot so fat she say, "Nicky do you love that"

In a mirror with the weed sack

I heard her but I didn't answer back

Man I like that little flute, remind me of Ronnie Newt

I think I'ma wear my caramel suit with the brown tie and them matching boots

Ain't that the truth, girl your vision is like chess

Ten doors down and nothin less

Freak we can ball out, never have a fall out

Roll around town no doubt with the 'Moe God Khan

Have that dough see, have that Cabana, have that Prada and Sean John

[Hook x2]

[Equipto:]

Man everything fast

Talk about bread but everything cash

Divide the dividends, devide we livin in

Mo' high than a little bit

Gotta spit the game and lace 'em with it

Me and Dreez got a race to finish

A relay, what replay, DJ don't waste a minute

The way she pop it for profits

These tricks they open they wallets

And plus they callin right after, my beezy stay in they pocket

I got it stamped to a sign, to back of my hand

And I don't just rap for fans

I'ma do it like char, Hawaii, ho in a arm

Three more in the car

[Andre Nickatina:]

Baby I cradle this, like Air Jordan dunks at Carolina

I'm right behind ya, and tryin to find ya and I remind ya . . .

Man excuse me my mouth is like an uzi

If you choose me, cause I look past all that beauty

Cause you destined to have duty

And you Shirley Temples are like candy swirls

Man all up in here is candy girls

Freak bring your friends along if they got a car and they up to par

Because my mouthpiece fast like a rabbit

Paint so swell you think you can grab it

Even magicians think it's magic

The way it's all wrapped up and packaged, baby it's a balla's race

[Equipto:]

Like a Tour De France

All in a rush ignore the past

Hop on a bus explore the map

For the homies ain't here I'd pour the Yak out

On your mark get set

Yeah, he could ball first but he ain't no threat

And I could bet that on a past line

Yeah she in last place for the last time

At a line, at a time, at a pocket

Block your mind from the gossip

It's a new day, roll tough with my hoes

A nigga show you how to pop it, that coochie

You lost your pace

And never had a taste of the Boss Soss all in your face

With no time to waste

Now let me see you chase the bread before you get replaced

[Hook x2]

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