2Pac – Str8 Ballin’ (OG)

2Pac – Str8 Ballin’ (Original Version)

Date: 1993/1994
Studio: Unique Studios, New York, NY
Recorded for THUG LIFE Vol. 1
Producer: Easy Mo Bee
Samples: Bootsy Collins – What’s A Telephone Bill

Lyrics:

[Intro]
With you white folks…
But now
The game is to be sold, not told, so, uh, fuck ya
I don’t know how to make it no mother fuckin’ way
Shit, beat like this, nigga gotta loc up

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

Know what I’m sayin’
Aye clock ya mother fuckin glocks my niggaz
Put one in the mother fuckin chamber
Cause we definitely goin through some thug violent shit
It’s still on!

[2pac]
I’m up before the sunrise, first to hit the block
Little bad mothafucka with a pocket full of rock
I learned ta throw them thangs, get my skinny little ass kicked
And niggas laugh, til’ tha first mothafucka got blasted
I put the nigga in his casket

Hey my nigga can I lay low, cook some yay-yo
Hollar “one-time” when I say so
Don’t want to go to the pen, I’m hittin’ fences
Narcs on a nigga back, missin’ me by inches
And they say how do you survive weighin’ 165
In a city where the skinny niggas die?
Tell Mama don’t cry
Cause even when they kill me
They can never take the game from a young G
We str8 ballin’!

[Chorus]
Hahaha
Beyatch
Str8 ballin’!

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

Where my mother fuckin’ niggas at?
Throw your shit in the mother fuckin’ air
WE STR8 BALLIN’
You cant stop this old true shit, hell naw
We str8 ballin’

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

[2pac]
I’m still on parole and I’m the first nigga servin’
pour some liquor on the curb for my niggas that deserve it
if I want to make a million, gotta stay dealin’
It’s kinda boomin’ round the way, think today I’ll make a killin’
Dressin’ down like I’m dirty, but only on the block
It’s a clever disguise (hehe) to keep me runnin’ from the cops (hehe)
Ha, I’m gettin’ high. I think I’ll die if I don’t get no ends
I’m in a bucket but I’m ridin’ it like it’s a Benz
I hit the stip and let my music bump
Drinkin’ liquor, and I’m lookin’ for some hoes to fuck
Rather die makin’ money than live poor and legal
As I slang another ounce, I wish it was a kilo
I need money in a major way
Time to fuck my BEEEYATCH!! She gettin’ paid today, hey
You other mothafuckas fallin
But me and my mothafuckin’ thug niggas, (what we do is)
We str8 up, fuckin ballin’!!

[Chorus]
You know
Str8 ballin’!

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

Talkin bout muthafuckin New York niggaz to the fuckin death

Nigga,
We str8 ballin’

Str8 ballin

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

[2pac]
I damned if I don’t, and damned if a nigga do
Now watch a young mothafucka pull a trigga to RAISE UP!
But don’t let them see you cry, dry your eyes
Young nigga time to do or die
I keep a pistol in my pocket
Ready, on my block
Ain’t no time for a nigga to even cock shit
Cuz I seen a mother fucka peep pain
At point blank range cause he slept on the game
Ain’t a damned thing changed
Shakin’ the dice, now roll ’em
If you can’t stand pain better hold ’em (haha)
Ain’t no tellin’ what you might roll
You might fold catch AIDS from a slight cold. Nigga
Best to live your life to the fullest
You kill a bull, got a pistol mothafucka better pull it, huh
Even if they kill me
they can never take the game from a young G
I’m str8 ballin’!

[Chorus]
Hell mother fuckin’ yea, y’all niggas kickup major dust
We str8 ballin’!

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

This shit dont mother fuckin’ stop
Ya’ll still gotta do it niggaz
Where my mother fuckin’ troopers at?
Ballin’ on the mother fuckin’ what
Throw your guns in the air
We str8 locing on these bitch ass mother fuckers

(I’m just living and a lovin’,
waiting for the moment,
when you’ve got time to kill)

They gon’ give us our pay
Or get mother fuckin ready
Shit is too mother fuckin… shit

To Who

[2pac]
And to my niggas in the penitentiary
Loc’d up like a mothafucka when they mention me
Cause you fuckin’ with the realest motha fuckaz ever born
And once again it’s on
I’m bustin’ on these bitches till they gone
Who the hell can you get to stop me?
I’m in the projects, parlaying with my posse
I keep my glock cocked
Nigga cause they all shady
I finally made it
So these jealous bitches tryin’ to FADE me!
I ain’t goin’ out
I’d rather blast back
I’m on the corner with my niggas watchin’ cash stack
And I came up a long way from food stamps
And takin’ shit from the low-life ghetto tramps
How could you blame me if they sweat me
I’m gonna open fire
What could I do?
Pull the trigga or watch my nigga die
I’m representin’ to the fullest givin’ devil slugs
I’m on the block slangin’ drugs with the young thugs
And mothafucka, we be ballin’!

[Outro]
You know, hell ya
(So listen while I recite you know to)
We str8 ballin’
Str8 ballin
Like that