We dump slugs, and fuck thugs for their drugs 
 When push come to shove ain't no motherfuckin love 
 Bow down, we just hit the town 
 But we brung shit like Hitler, bail em with a Sigma 
 Switch with the first shot, gotta check the spot 
 Burnin rubber out the parkin lot, pointin out the window 
 Stuck off indo, bumpin my nigga C-Bo 
 Bitches all in my business cos they think I move kilo's 
 I, call my people's on the mobile, gang all over, nationwide 
 distribution 
 Now I'm posted up in Houston 
 Texas, ridin the Lexus but it's supremo 
 Niggas set trip, a solo weapon is essen(tial) 
 Keep the pepper spray on my car keys, only fuck with hard Gz 
 Still get my ball on like Clark 
 Nothin but the California hoggin me 
 Touchin triggers, real niggas, straight doggin freaks 
 Chorus: 
 Can we all ball? 
 Can we all ball? 
 Can we all ball? 
 We take the occupation when movin, my hustle never stop 
 Check what? Some babies camera's peep the blocks, stash the Glocks 
 Posi's squashed, ship ki's and here there's thousand dollar bidders 
 Rim hats with feathers, more money than Perry Ellis 
 Never known behind ???, talkin "let my nuts hang" 
 Trade ya the .4-5 and the Tek 9 for a drop Mustang 
 A long line of killers, drug dealers with stripes 
 Just schoolin, you're rollin pontentially, could take your advice 
 We count big face and straight laces by the hundreds 
 Ragtops and big blocks, gettin the money 
 Sippin X-O Hen, and I get it for the 1-10 
 In a convertible Benz, fearin hunted, on twins 
 They call me Bo-Loc, and fo' sho' I smoke the dodo 
 and flip the '97 Sport to shake the po-po 
 High rollers count, tall dollars will never fall 
 In this shit for the cash nigga, enter, forever ball 
 Chorus 
 We are surprised in this rap game 
  Straight gangsta shit makes the world go round, I'm nuttin nice 
 On a dice, bets are more wet and crush ice 
 X-O, stretch Rolls, Bza's and Lexo's 
 And fuck the best hoes, and never slippin like Magic Johnson 
 Keeps my cock down, increase my hatto, from Sac to Compton 
 Rolex down, fools shot up, solid ice 
 The gin in the cask was still followed by the vice 
 In the S-Class, we does it on the gas 
 On my cell, Bo poppin my collar, all about my cash 
 How many diggers can you scat? Now picture that 
 without the feds on your back, homey, and that's a fact 
 We attack with Mac 1-12's to protect my sack 
 I pick up my pack, tellin the order "handle that" 
 It ain't no room for you busters cos we knuckle ya downfall 
 Player haters, fuck y'all, let these ballers all ball 
 Chorus: 
 Can we all ball? 
 Can we all ball? 
 Can we all ball? 
 Can we all ball? 
 Tell me, can we ball