Baller Please - Z-Ro, Z-Ro feat. Big T

I wanna be, a baller please

But the bitches and the liquor, keep on calling me

I wonder if I’m blessed, cause I’m still here

And I wonder if heaven’s any different, cause in hell the blood spill hits

Got a nigga, fiending for his last breath

Too many of my partnas beneath me, because a bitch made nigga blasted

Too many features in songs, tell me why I ain’t got no home

Penitentiary grown, cause I roam with a pocket full of stones

I wanna live my life, but my life ain’t worth the living

Cause while I’m dreaming about a Benz, even a houpe ain’t driven

Headed for prison, but mama I’m alright with that

Strapped down with a shank in my tank, hit niggas all night with that

And it ain’t no love left, fuck all of my foes and friends

Motherfuckers don’t fuck with Ro, unless that nigga be rolling in ends

I need to wake up, instead of day dreaming about holding a slab

Like being in love with a woman, that you could never have

Witness the feeling punished by pain, looking for shelter from the rain

People like W double O-D, I’m going against the grain

Hey to my niggas in Ridgemont 4, y’all can kiss my ass

Anybody who ever said they was down with me, can kiss my ass

I done dumped on motherfuckers, what they gon do for me

Out of town on stage, nobody from the hood in the crowd to root for me

Suppose to be my people, but I think my people is the devil

Fuck my peers, cause I’m on another level

On my knees, screaming Jesus can you save me

My shit’s so fucked up, I wonder if you thought about me lately

And it hurt so deep a nigga can’t sleep, making me late night creep

Suicidal thoughts I think I’m ready, plus it’s fucking with me

Would I be missed by these bitch niggas, these fakes and frauds

Fiending for baby, cause she know she got my heart

Even though it’s torn apart, it’s pumping out nothing but love for you

And to my niggas keep your disses, I got slugs for you

I shed blood for you, but I’m not appreciated

The only nigga, that never hesitated

And it ain’t more, hollering out my roll dog’s name on tape

Unless it’s fuck you, and in front of it followed up by a K

No more, hollering out my roll dog’s name on tape

Unless it’s fuck you, and in front of it followed up by a K bitch

Balling out of control, sitting swoll on 4's

Paint so wet, that my clothes stick to the do'

Oh no, it’s Big T

Million dollar hook nigga, come see me

On a muddy cup, man hol' up

And if your bitch choose, then you shit out of luck

I’ma send her ass home, broke and well fucked

And she kinda walk funny, cause the bitch was well stuck

When I ain’t have shit, y’all boys talk down

Like you didn’t know T, everytime I came around

Now when you hear me, I’ma put you on stall

And don’t say nothing, when you see me in the mall

I gotta get my cash, in these H-Town streets

Presidential Records, and your boy Big T

I know I gotta get it, cause I wanna be a baller please

But the bitches and the liquor, keep on calling me yeah