Str8 Ballin’ – Song and Lyrics by 2Pac


Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Str8 Ballin” by 2Pac. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2Pac or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

I would share the definition of ballin’ with you white folks
But, now, the game if for the soldier, not, so, f*ck you

I’m up before the sunrise, first to hit the block
Little bad mothafucka with a pocket full of rocks
Learn to throw them thangs, get my skinny little ass kicked
And niggas laugh til’ tha first mothafucka got blasted
I put the nigga in his casket
Now they coverin’ the bastard in plastic
I smoke blunts on a regular, buck when it counts
I’m tryin’ to make a million dollars outta quarter ounce
And gettin’ lost on the five-o, f*ck them hos
Got a forty-five screamin’ ’bout survival
Hey, nigga, can I lay low, cook some yay-yo?
Hollar “one-time,” when I say so
Don’t want to go to the pen, I’m hittin’ fences
Narcs on a nigga back, missin’ me by inches
And they say how do you survive weighin’ one-sixty-five
In a city where the skinny niggas die?
Tell Mama, don’t cry
Even when they kill me
They can never take the game from a young G
I’m straight ballin’!

Straight ballin’!
Straight ballin’!

Still on parole, and I’m the first nigga servin’
Pour some liquor on the curb for my niggas that deserve it
But if I want to make a million, gotta stay dealin’
It’s kinda boomin’, and today I’ll make a killin’
Dressin’ down like I’m dirty, but only on the block
It’s a clever disguise to keep me runnin’ from the cops
Ha, I’m gettin’ high. I think I’ll die if I don’t get no ends
I’m in a bucket, but I’m ridin’ it like it’s a Benz
I hate to stip, but let my music bump
Drinkin’ liquor, and I’m lookin’ for some hos to f*ck
Rather die makin’ money than live poor and legal
As I slang another ounce, I wish it was a kilo!
I need money in a major way
Time to f*ck my Beyatch! Hey, and gettin’ paid
You other mothafuckas fallin’
But me, and my mothafuckin’ thug niggas
We straight ballin’!

Straight ballin’!
Straight ballin’

Damned if I don’t, and damned if a nigga do
So watch a young mothafucka pull a trigga just to raise up!
But don’t let them see you cry, dry your eyes
Young nigga, time to do or die
I keep a pistol in my pocket
Ready, on my block
Ain’t no time for a nigga to even cock it, shit
And I done seen that mothafucka beat pain
At point blank range, ’cause he slept on the game
Ain’t a damned thing changed
Shakin’ the dice, now roll ’em
If you can’t stand pain better hold ’em
‘Cause ain’t no tellin’ what you might roll
You might go catch AIDS from a slight cold, nigga
Best to live your life to the fullest
Be quick to kill a fool, got a pistol, mothafucka, better pull it
‘Cause even when they kill me
They can never take the game from a young G
We straight ballin’!

Straight ballin’!
Straight ballin’

To my niggas in the penitentiary
Locked up, like a mothafucka, when they mention me
‘Cause you fuckin’ with the realest mothafucka ever born
And once again it’s on
I’m bustin’ on these bitches till they gone
Who the hell can you get to stop me?
I’m in the projects, parlaying with my posse
I keep my glock cocked
I need it, ’cause they’re all shady
I finally made it
Now these jealous bitches tryin’ to fade me!
I ain’t goin’ out, I’d rather blast back
I’m on the corner, with my niggas, watchin’ cash stack
And I came up a long way from food stamps
And takin’ shit from the low-life ghetto tramps
Could you blame me? If they sweat me I’m a open fire
What could I do? Pull my trigga, or watch my nigga die
I’m representin’ to the fullest, givin’ devil slugs
I’m on the block, slangin’ drugs with the young thugs
And, mothafucka, we be ballin’!
All mothafuckin’ day long, stay strong!
We straight ballin’