Ballers Feud

Chorus *(Phats Bossalini & Val Young)* 2x That's the Ballers Feud A thug changes, and love changes That's the Ballers Feud And best friends become strangers Verse 1*(Yukmouth)* Survey says... You know some fake mutha fuckas I know some bustas too This fake mutha fucka been causin rukus in my crew Since '92 At first I thought he was cool like Dru Always hollerin the Dangerous Crew, but if you only knew Them niggas don't wanna hang wit you Cuz of the thangs you do Learn a thang or two Talkin bad bout yo homies, two bitches who juss be framin you Niggas thinkin bout hangin you, the game is true Everywhere we go the punk hoo bangin you Makes it kinda hard for me to swang wit you That's why niggas only hang wit Dru, my pimpydoo Folk-el, smoke out my Range Rove-el What? What? Fuck these broke-els I hate it when niggas be playin wit yo mail, because they only end up Smoked out Broke as hell Drivin buckets I'm drivin luxury cars and plus shit Benz the Lexus the roughest to fuck wit So you wanna be P-I-M-P? You need to get a bitch to fuck you fo free You payin G's fo pussy *(Chorus)* 2x Verse 2 *(Numskull)* There's too many playas Too many ballas Too many hustlas Too many killas Too many pimped out mutha fuckas So now we got the east coast and the west coast feudin to see who's Cleanest The cleanest mutha fucka is the richest and the genius What if you stumbles, like buyin too many houses Wit rims to put on yo shit, too many furry couches Who the mouses nigga, I think you knowin Sheadin tears from bitches who take yo shit and keep goin An don't come back, cuz they done sucked you dick and yo cabbage Got 20 hoes across America livin lavish Hatin is juss a ho thang, yo, I gotta live like that A bitch can roll wit me, or hit the track You can talk about pimpin, you can talk about killin But when that shit goes down, sound minds will be revealin When you die and comeback, maybe you can try again and beat me But don't try now, cuz you niggas can't see me 22, ready to hoo ride at moments notice First to swang, hittin noses, eyes can't focus Hocus pocus Now 25 niggas on ya Juss because you moved from California Ballers Feud *(Chorus)* 2x Verse 3 *(Kastro)* We went from loved ones, on the way up To no love at all Time to go though, so I don't give no fucks at all Cross the game Don't be playin, stoned get right I shed blood wit this, and that can't be gone, overnight This hate Man, could be a cold mutha fucka Close friends, close as cat scan, love 'em like my brother Now I See 'em dyin like a mutha fucka Slow death, no breath Man I love it like my mother And that's some cold shit, I'm on some mo' swole shit Listen quick Fingers thick Lady clit Piss this shit, on yo clit Niggas know I'm flossin K-Cash Cash foldin You want what I'm holdin, my wife an my life stolen Worse enemy, authority Police are all enemy Richeously, this life fo' me ain't as bad as it seems to be But still in all I love, all I love Take my ten fingers, my ten toes, an mash outta love Do it fo ya'll, all ya'll My baby girl an God This crazy world like a knife in the heart of my cause Now half part of me hard The other part of me scarred Death wit out health, but still a nigga prayin to God *(Chorus)* 4x