|
Z-Ro - Ni**a From the Hood lyrics
[Chorus] Too many niggas, trying to take me off of my game Just a nigga from the hood, that's looks some good Now they all want to to jock my fame When I coming down in my ?born? And I'm rolling one deep that should tell you about me I don't give a damn about none of you hoes I blast on sight cause I ain't tripping no more [Z-Ro] You can't knock my hustle, ain't no games gone be played Even haters a hundred miles away, deuce out they shades Coming down one deep, I ain't gone stop and try to speak I keep on rolling mean mugging as I pull on a sweet I gave a cool package of sellers, because I knocked down yellas Keep a 4 for myself and a 4-4 for the jealous Cause them boys be scoping, intoxicated and hoping That they run up on Z-Ro I leave they flesh wide open Let them take me for what, cause I be damned if I slip Beretta beam in the club same thang on my hip Another case like that, if you don't think I bring that Run on up and I'ma bust and flip your brain like crack [Chorus] [Z-Ro] Nothing but dollars we clock, show after show we gone rock Pimpin hoes in the five double o and baby mamas gone jock What the fuck is the deal, somebody pass me the kill Rubatussin and marijuana, one time and I peal Don't let a snitch see my dope, cause the snitches gone squeel If they play with my freedom, you know a coffin gone feel Niggas be working with louds, I'm gone work on they jaws Putting snitches in ditches cause I know they be talking bout Every move that I make, that's why I be solo when I bake Cooking up in the kitchen come up with a ounce with no flakes Cause when I say get back, before my finger start itching Better believe when I relieve my stress you might come up missing I don't be kissing no ass, take a hit and dump the ash I'ma chop on 20's with sparkling oak on my dash I'm too low to descirbe, out the Screwed Up tribe Read about it in the Source, Murda Dog and the Vibe [Chorus] [Z-Ro] Remember back in 94 they use to laugh at me baby Now it's year two triple o broads be after me baby Can you recall when I was sparkling now I hide behind 10 Cause being in a drop with a escallade I know you want to know where I went I got a bitch named Lucy, for me she sell her coochie Finest in the vagina for lunch when I feel like sushi See it to the day we fall, we ball out of control Everyday at my low key location hoes fall out of they clothes Range Rovers and Hummers, 45 glock gunner Plus I'm a pen pimping veteran, smelling plex among new comers How you love a platinum plack it means I'm already gold It ain't no joke I'm in the scope, five hundred thousand already sold I'm throwed off in the mind, mic and producer and booms no ?reap? in the wine Smoke to relax my mind, radio songs go lemon lime Fuck a neuse a niggas might go thet there to the po po why pop it Giving out my phone number on the daily cause it won't hurt my pocket [Chorus] [Z-Ro: outro] Man, what's the god damn deal, Southside, Northside, Eastside, Westside It's your boy Z-Ro, knocking down the door in year two triple o S.U.C. for life, screw you, it's for you baby Heavy Weighters, my nigga Toon, R-O, Big M-O-E Z to the Ro, Geurilla Maab affilliated, know what I'm saying Putting it down, new millenium it's ours, get that baby |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 All the Way by Calloway |
 Back to Black by Amy Winehouse |
![Pleyel [live]](http://www.thelyricarchive.com/img/pic/8501-9000/8878/album-83986) Pleyel [live] by France Gall |
 Zakiya by Zakiya |
 Twenty Four Seven by Tina Turner |
