Z.RO

Nigga From the Hood

Z.RO


[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