Z.RO

I Don't Stop

Z.RO


[Chorus: Z-Ro] 
Nigga it don't stop, so keep on flippin your Glock 
Whether it's drama or not 
Cause somebody might run up in ya spot, whether you servin or not 
That's how it go on the block 
Keep your eyes open because the police they plot 
Don't let your spot get hot, you gon' end up gettin popped 
So when I'm in the drop I'm strapped with my thumb cocked 
Only gon' take one shot, leave you stretched out on the block 

[Z-Ro] 
I'm a motherfuckin asshole, every day all day 
E.B.K. every 24 hours these Houston streets made me this way 
I spit it like I live it homie and the way I live is dangerous 
Fuck Officer Thornton Berry and Precinct 5 for playin games with us 
Mad cause we in a big house, driveway look like a car lot 
Since we young and black that's enough to make them President bitches fall out 
But I got the game from J. Prince bitch and I'm still learnin 
Able to flip with a suspended license, a sweet tooth, and still burnin 
On top of 22 inches of chrome and they still turnin 
Tryin to reach a bigger market I don't have a plaque but I'm still earnin 
Mo' than a motherfucker, my kinfolk Trae doin his thang too 
Fuck with us must be baldheaded so a hat is what I brand you 
Here's a couple of bitch niggaz that would love to see me dead 
And they can't stand the fact that Joseph McVey is backed up by bread 
Holla 

[Chorus] 

[Z-Ro] 
(Say Ridgemont!) Mo City my motherfuckin hood 
My nigga Grady and Mike Newsome in the streets up to no good 
Tryin to make good and get out the hood like I did, and I'm gon' help 'em do it 
Cause I got love for my real niggaz and I got extra chips to do it 
Look I used to reap a lot of shit now I'm startin to sew some 
Remember when I was dirt broke and love nobody showed none 
That's the reason I ain't smilin when you see me in person 
I'm tryin to peep out my surroundings cause them jackers be lurkin 
Ain't none of that takin my car or my chain, bitch you must be smokin