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Ballin' Outta Control Lyrics

The song Ballin' Outta Control is performed by E-40 in the album named The Mail Man in the year 1994 .

Send Ballin' Outta Control Ringtone to your Cell



Pushed in the game at a young age
Feel me touch me as I turn the page
A little past ten, roughly about
Eleven years old dropped in the good location

My scratch is smellin' sour and it's stinkin'
Got a nigga seriously thinkin'
"How can I kill this odor, and purchase me a Lincoln?"
Minimum wage flippin' patties, nope

I'd rather f**k around with Coca Cola, yola
Ice cream, candy, granola, huh
Slave for men, that's what they told me
And I'll break you off somethin' suitable

Brought you a key of crack quicker than you bring me back
(Can you)
There are some things recoupable
Gonna smooch your black and beautiful
For my partner she used to be plucked and ugly

Hangin' around them old squeegee boys
Man them the motherf**kers that have love for me
They straight cut for me, deal me, touch me
L O V E, E to the F to the R T Y

I spits the shit from the T O P, it's me, the E
Droppin' it nuclear all the time
Motherf**ker comin' from the motherf**kin' mud
f**k you niggaz, you think I sell my soul
But I'm way too cold, motherf**ker

Sittin' in my livin' room, thinkin' of a master plan
Tryin' to find a way out, then I snatch the scratch
And laugh, so I painted me a picture of a life
To make a dream, can you feel me now?
Ballin' outta control, ballin' outta control

Fresh off the showroom flo', bought me a ninety-fo'
Now I'm havin' long money, like Ross Perot, so take
Notes from a big ol' Shakie the pimp, pretty much established
Livin' out of hand, lavish, throwin' parties so madrid

Closer feeling with big time folks makin' big time cabbage
Become a savage, guess your boat was
Twenty, and you tried to stab us
Six figure digits, just like I 'ot you like

I got the whole city sewed up in stitches
Your product'll win if you gots top grade, but you gotta
Keep, your lawyers and your bail bondsmen paid
The word on the street's is that I done, came up too fast

Motherf**kers want a piece of my soul
Playa haters wanna cut my gra*s
You don't wanna bring your bitch into what the top act is pourin'
Out of control sittin' on tickets

Million dollar spots, technology chops
And a motherf**ker proud fool, a*sed ridiculous
Straight f**kin' 'em up like that, throw me my strap man
I want these fools to feel me

Reverend, would you put some blessin' oil
On my head and hear me
I'd never sell my soul 'cause I'm way too cold
Motherf**ker, ballin' outta control

This ol' game, kids they run, never get a second chance
So take me to this world, now there's always time, to getch'a
I guess by now you get the picture of what I'm tryin' to say
I'm ballin' outta control

Niggaz trippin' off me, 'cause I was a young motherf**ker ballin'
Every other f**kin' day I'm tellin' my fahaha's I quit
Niggaz trippin' off me, 'cause I was a young motherf**ker ballin'
We can get it on, we can get it on

Niggaz trippin' off me, 'cause I was a young motherf**ker ballin'
Forty one, and let them know
But even though my pocket's fat my belly's bigger
Gots to come sic strict strict wid it

Throw the hoe, y' know in a big a*s gumbo pot
Full stir, let it settle to make it lock
Horse races, trips to Vegas, frequent flier
Wha*s up you timah, when your a*s gonna retire?

I ain't knowin', keep tellin' myself that I'ma call it quits
But I got myself too much motherf**kin' cabbage
Out there runnin' in the streets
Lookin' up out the way for the one time

Po-Po Penelope be seriously concentratin'
Noided as I watch the back for all of my chemistry
'Cause fools be playa hatin'
Lucrative spots and blows, investments bonds and stocks

Esquired land and crops, techno chops and glocks
'Cause niggaz be tryin to make movies
When they get all in front of these bootch a*s hoochies
I be like poppin' the cap like a hungry mother

I ain't even gon' lie I'm to', twoasted, looped, to' back, souped
Plastered, puked, on the get back fully recouped
f**k these niggaz, they think I'll sell my soul
But I'm way too cold, motherf**ker

Sittin' in my livin' room, thinkin' of a master plan
Tryin' to find a way out, then I snatch the scratch
And laugh, so I painted me a picture of a life
To make a dream, can you feel me now?
Ballin' outta control, ballin' outta control

Yeah, yeah, I'm ballin' outta control
Out of motherf**kin' control
I'm ballin' outta control 'cause I'm way too cold
Yeah, I'm ballin' outta control

Yeah, feel me man
I feel you man, can you feel me man
Yeah, I feel you man, Vitti can you feel me?
I feel ya, motherf**ker can you feel me?

Yeah, feel me man
I feel you man, feel me boy?
I'm ballin' outta control
Every f**kin' time, yeah, yeah, yeah
All day, motherf**ker, yeah



Send Ballin' Outta Control Ringtone to your Cell

E-40 - The Mail Man