Intro: Peter Gunz   Feel it, feel it   Coma ona, come on   DA, DA, DA   Where ya at(where ya at)   yo      Verse 1: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq   I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze   Rice the illest shit & don't smoke no trees   Niggas won't test, but they turn around & freeze   Might get mic cancer the way I smoke m.c.s      Nigga we did it all from flippin burgs to manipulating words   Gettin less than four Os on a check is absurd   I got the five it's feasible, but the six is preferred   So when I step, you better have my shit corrrect, ya heard      I'm in the ruber in the sand, gettin a tan playin frisbee   With this quarter piece, sippin on coladas gettin dizzy   On the celly with my broker buyin shares of stock   Cause when it stops, I'ma still be sittin in drops      And I'm in a benz, comin through, doin two, pumpin lilo   Bought the cut jewels from Tif, cause the feds are watchin Tito   Stepped up from an eigth, to a half, to a kilo   To makin mils, off this label deal, that's for real   yo      Chorus: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq      PG: We will ball   LT: Until my lady shoppin at Sach's   and got the minx on they back, I tell ya   PG: We won't fall   LT: Until my players on the block doin it   and gettin money in stacks, I tell ya   PG: We will ball   LT: Ladies with the pedicures   manicures & they hair done up, I tell ya   PG: We won't fall   LT: And players ride around in V's   pumpin our cd's, just turn it up.      Verse 2: Peter Gunz & Lord Tariq      I didn't ball with the best of them   Fuck the rest of them   Chickenheads don't mess with them   Dimes ain't even stressin em   It's all about franc & pounds & dinero   The same shit that helped me get my six-zero-zero      Nigga we ball, we take it all never dealin we fresh   Talk jewels like I had my tongue dipped in platinum   Tanqueray get me wet, I'm drippin in activator   Drop the top on the porsche, hit the clutch see you later      Well I tried to tell my P-O, screamed on the C-O   Before I turn 3-O, I'll be C-E-O   Young black millionaire, why you still in there   Checkin asses, harass just some herb with the bashes      If gettin money's a crime, well then I'm guilty as charged   Filthy rich, Lord built to be large   I'll have the city sick   Pullin that silver shit out the garage   Under the sun with yo chick gettin a massage      Chorus      Verse 3: ?, Peter Gunz, & Lord Tariq   Well these bitches tryin to sleep on me   Wop   You shouldn't sign these niggas down they suckin d   Drop   And now they wanna sweat cause we double p   Stop   Got the nerve to call my office for a free cd   Cop   Man they said we couldn't do it but we it's done   And they said we wouldn't win but we won   They said it would be better if we run   (together)   But we ran to the top of the charts   Platinum plaques when this rap shit was fallin apart   Well she mention little Gunz, Tariq   Staring good, take a taste, fix yo face bitch, ain't nothin sweet      We just tryin to eat, the Bronx applyin the heat   You estimate a hundred thou, we sold 5 in a week      Chorus      Outro: Peter Gunz   We will ball   We won't fall   We will ball   We won't fall   We will ball   We won't fall