E.S.G. & SLIM THUG - We Ain't Trippin' No Mo lyrics

rate me

(feat. Z-Ro)

[Hook]

Too many haters, still try to take me off of my game

See a young playa gripping wood

Looking good hold up, man we off the chain

See us coming down, and we're holding

It's the Z-Ro, Slim Thug and E.S.G.

We don't give a damn about none of these hoes

We all about our do', we ain't tripping no mo'

[E.S.G.]

Armed and dangerous, wanna spit them flows

Swang with us, if you wanna sit low

The game of life be shife, better think twice

Aren't they nice, get killed hoe

For real though, kick your ass with a steel toe

What can I say, you niggas gay you need a deal though

Work my wheels so, twenty three minutes from your town

Udaville hoe, 23 inches from the ground

Hold up now look around, playboy you don't want no drama

Off the chain and untamed, orangatangs out the jungle

Make the loudest nigga mumble, baller blockers can't stop this

Wanna throw me out the game, like my name Rasheed Wallace

Hold up, blow the whistle that's a tech

We got home court advantage, this year we bout to wreck

Hit up nigga sets, snap they neck

Take to the chest, trying to fuck with the best

Invisible set, baguettes, Rolex when I flex in the Lex with the big S-S

Now who's next, you gon understand it

Back in the tour van, with Jennifer Lopez panties in my hand ha

[Hook]

[Z-Ro]

Z-Ro the Mo City Don, bigger my bricks and profits

It's evident that I'm a President to the game, you can't baller block it

You can't block my ball, when I get a flick a screen gon fall

Give me fo' corners, and I punish em all

Never gon fall off, when I haul off in the L dog

My block my bread and butter, keeping my pockets nice and thick

Whether be solid or whether be soft, the game ain't never been known to quit

We went from riches to rags, rags to riches, while maintaining

Composure rock and witness these fellas, as they was switching

Investing in plenty bars and stocks, still got money coming out the block

I scheme to plot to the cream of the crop, fuck a bitch we gon leave a bald spot

They trying to take me off my game, wanna see me not having thangs

Mo City Texas Ridegmont mayn, killa codeine and mary jane

Over the plate it's time to bat, it's out of the park I told you that

Lucky Al Gore couldn't hold it back, now I gotta calm down with a doja sack

Z-Ro, Slim Thug and E.S.G., we in it to win

Mechanical gorgeous everytime our records spin, Mr. Hater

[Hook]

[Slim Thug]

I feel like in real life, they thinking I'm Santa Clause

I hide from mo' hoes and mo' foes, than I hide from the laws

They in my face with no pause, steady trying to make a G fall

Like Tupac fuck all y'all, cause I need my cash tall

Trying to hate on mine you outta line, I shine because I grind

I keep that money up on my mind, for the umpteenth time

When I write a rhyme I rhyme real, and getting green is what I feel

A five figga nigga that want a mill, before my record deal

Still trying to get it, I hustle and can't quit it

My target in range, is up to me to aim and hit it

Boy forget it, if you think I'm falling off of my game

You off the chain, you must of fell and lost your brain

I maintain and look good, and grip wood through my hood

Fuck a hoe I'm bout my do', let's keep it understood

While these haters falling off, I'ma be falling in

Big falling in the Benz, solo fuck friends cause uh

[Hook]