Chorus: Z-Ro
Nigga it don't stop, so keep a clip in 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 bring 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
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/yt78Remember 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
Ain't nuttin smoother than to bottle his ass and I'll leave yo' head open
I'ma roll the way I wanna roll in the 3 or the glass house
Rov' Rangin with motherfuckers displayin my glass mouth
Hit my licks and get off the game 'fore they get me I cash out
Be somewhere down in water, off season with a big mustache mouth
Barefooted on the beach bitch, just me and my fam
Don't make these bullets melt in your mouth from this heat in my hand
Holla

Chorus

Z-Ro
Listen, I been a sucker for love once, I ain't gon' do it no mo' do'
So listen up bitches you hoes won't get a red cent of 'Ro's doe
Faster than the flash of a photo I'ma beat and hit that
And the minute lil' momma start to get posessive I'll dismiss that
Not a jiggalo or nothin like that, but I like to beat it up
by smokin 'dro and bumpin some rap
Lil' momma get on top of me and put a hump in your back
But if you a setup, bitch, I promise yo I'm dumpin the gats
A couple of 7.26's right up under ya naps
Hit everybody that was involved and put 'em under the map
I run the streets like Jackey Joyner-Kersee plus I run rap
I took a fall for 9 and a 1/2 months but I had to come back
And at my arrival there was some bitch niggaz with some yakkity yak
That hoe-ass nigga DJ Pen and his whole raggitty pack
Y'all niggaz'll never be Guerillas or the Screwed Up Click
So when you see me holla at me lace ya shoes up bitch
It's Screwed Up Click 4 Life

Chorus