Rapper's Ball Lyrics - Tha Hall Of Game - E-40

Where them naked hoes at? 

E-Feezey! 

Too Scheezy! 

We off the heezy fo'scheezy baby! 

Off the heezy I thought you theezy! 

Niggaz ain't havin no cheesy like us main! 

They ain't havin no raveez! 

Shit. 

Haha you know us. 

Where K-Ceeezi at man? Tell him sing that shit. 

Lace dem fools or something. 

Beotch! 

Chorus: K-Ci 

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Say that you got it all 

Love the way you players ball 

Everyday you're at the mall 

Tell me is it true or false 

Say that you got it all 

Love the way you players ball 

Claimin that your mail is tall 

Tell me is it true or false 

Verse One: E-40, Too $hort 

I put my mack hand down ain't never been asound 

I was havin b-r-e-a-d way before this rap game nigga been town 

Thought you theezy, for sheezy, niggaz 'member 

Earl, Brat, and Denell dem boys from Vallel 

At every light it's automatic, BURN RUBBER 

See my folkers in the traffic, WHASSUP ERB 

Follow that cab it got dope in it, uhh 

My potnah $hort got hoes in it 

Photos 

I'm always hearin rappers big ballin on they songs 

I do that shit for real and you'll never say I'm wrong 

S-500 straight sittin on twenties 

TV in the dash pimpin hoes gettin money 

I'm Too $hort baby been down since the eighties 

For the last eight years rode around in a Mercedes 

Lexus, trucks, drop-Vette, Caddy 

Bitches don't call me by my name they call me daddy 

Chorus 

Verse Two: E-40, Too $hort 

K-Ci $hort E-40 Fonzarelli 

I'll probably never have long money like Ross Perilli 

But shit we just want a hip 

Don't want the whole plate 

Don't put the two on the ten, don't ever perpetrate 

Like a lot of these fools I see on TV 

With the Armani Chanel Versus Versacci 

Why motherfuckers can't be broke sometimes? 

Sometimes it's cool to floss 

But don't buy an eighty-five thousand dollar car 

Before you buy a house 

They always said I couldn't rap, I just say bitch 

I guess the bitch, made me rich 

And now you wanna call me hardcore 

While I be steppin out the shower on a marble floor 

I paid the IRS taxes send FedEx and faxes 

This industry'll is like fuckin, fat bitches 

All work and no play, I do it everyday 

anyway cuz I gotta stay paid 40 

Chorus 

Verse Three: E-40, Too $hort 

We throw parties on big-ass boats, niggaz wrap they paper 

Ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego Jamaica 

Front row seats at the Ultimate Fights, shamrock and severin 

Long expensive fuh-flights, up dere in the heavens 

Fat ass royalty checks, fat ass cribs 

Smokin blunts and drinkin brew on the blacony, barbecuin ribs 

The more scrilla, the merrier 

I represent the Ya area 

I walk from Foothill and Paperscourt to Sixty-Seven MacArthur 

To Freddie B house to make tapes with my potnah 

Hit Arroyo Park, we had tapes for sale 

Got a paper bag full of that, can't you tell 

it's funky, everybody nod they head like this 

I said bitch, and everybody read my lips 

I got rich, suckin up the game from the O 

and even though a lot of rappers got the same kind of flow 

I survived cuz I got mo', game than them 

It came straight from the prostitutes, players, and pimps 

It was my destiny, I came the same every time 

So don't question me, I transfer the game in the rhymes 

I'm not a freestyler, don't rap for free main 

It's Paystyle on mine, cuz I love money main 

Landrovers and Toyota, Lexuses 

Six-hundred feet twelve with them big ass motor Mercedeses 

We don't be savin hoes, bitches be savin us 

Bitch disrespect me in my car, bitch best to catch the bus 

I keep a briefcase full of game, while y'all be ear-hustlin 

Ain't no paperback pimpin nigga, we ain't strugglin 

Chorus 

Verse Four: Too $hort 

I'm Shorty the Pimp, I come funky 

Again and again, they say when will it end? 

Maybe never, cause I can still spit it 

But I ain't rappin for cheese, I want meal tickets 

Gotta start somewhere, and I'm past that 

For the right scratch, I be the last mack 

So stick yaself Pretty Tony 

You tryin ta make a hit, but your shit sounds phony 

Not like AT&T but like ET 

You can't be me, so would you please see 

If you can keep my name out your mouth 

Cause you don't really know what the game's all about 

It's bout feedin the family, not freakin in the Benz 

Instead of rentin, pay for that roof on your head 

And stop pimpin in your mind knowin you a trick 

Put your hustle down playa go an hit you a lick 

Bitch! 

(That's writ, Too Scheezi, Ant Banks, Forty Fonzarelli, K-Ci) 

Damn is that right? 

(That's right)