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    E-40

    The Mail Man 1994 ©

    Ballin' Out Of Control

    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 fuck 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 ?
    ? recoupable
    ? future black and beautiful
    My partners used to be plucked and ugly
    Hangin around them old squeegee boys
    Man them the motherfuckers 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
    Motherfucker comin from the motherfuckin.. mud
    Fuck you niggaz, you think I sell my soul
    But I'm way too cold, motherfucker!


    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' ? pimp, pretty much established
    Livin out of hand lavish
    Throwin parties ?
    with big time folks makin big time cabbage
    Become a savage, get swoll by ones
    Twenty a drum's established
    Six figure digits, just like I tell you like
    I got the whole city sewed up in stitches
    Your product'll win if you gots top grade
    Keep, your law-yers and your bail bondsmen paid
    The word on the street's is that I done came up too fast
    Motherfuckers want a piece of my soul
    Playa haters wanna cut my grass
    You don't wanna bring your bitch
    to what type of ? out of control sittin on tickets
    Million dollar spots, technology chops
    and a motherfucker proud fool-assed ridiculous
    Straight fuckin em up like that, throw me my strap man
    ? feel me
    Reverend would you put some blessin oil on my head
    and hear me
    I never sell my soul cause I'm way too cold
    Motherfucker! 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 getcha
    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 motherfucker ballin"
    "Every other fuckin day I'm tellin my sahies how to quit"
    "Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin"
    "We can get it on, we can get it on"
    "Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin"
    "Forty-Water, straight lettin em know"
    "Even though my pocket's fat and my belly's bigger..
    gots to come Sic-Sic-Sic-Wid-It"

    Throw, the hoe
    Y'know in a big ass gumbo pot
    Full stir
    Let it settle to make it lock
    Horse races, trips to Vegas, frequent flier
    "Whassup you timah, when your ass gonna retire?"
    I ain't knowin
    Keep tellin myself that I'ma call it quits
    But I got myself
    Too much motherfuckin cabbage out there runnin in the streets
    Lookin up out the way for the one-time
    Po-Po Penelope 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 ass 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
    Fuck these niggaz they think I'll sell my soul
    But I'm way too cold, motherfucker!



    Yeah yeah, I'm ballin outta control
    Out of motherfuckin control
    I'm ballin outta control
    Cause I'm way too cold
    Yayayy, I'm ballin outta control
    MotherFUCKER! Ah yeah
    Feel me main
    I feel you main
    Can you feel me main
    Yeah, I feel you main
    Vitti can you feel me?
    I feel yah!
    Motherfucker can you feel me?
    Yeahahayahahah!
    Feel me main
    I feel you main
    Feel me boy?
    I'm ballin outta control, yeahahahhh
    Every fuckin time
    All day, motherfucker

    1994 ©




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