Z-Ro - Mo City Don Freestyle lyrics

rate me

(*talking*)

Shit, Z-Ro the Crooked, I know y'all

Been waiting on this here, yeah shit

R.I.P. Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator

All the fallen soldiers man, Southside

Eastside, Westside, Northside, know I'm saying

All my partnas, all your dead partnas

But shit I still feel stress, still gotta get something

Off my chest, while these hoe niggaz be doing what

They be doing, I don't know though, shit fuck it

We gon stay two deep in a fo' do'

[Z-Ro]

Slow Loud And Bangin', all in my trunk

Trunk full of funk, I ain't never been a punk

I blow on skunk, I blow on doja

Military minded, I'm a motherfucking soldier

Out the streets, of the Ridgemont 4

Not no bitch, and I still ain't a hoe

Letting niggaz know, everyday of the year

I pimp my pen, and I get my point clear

Why niggaz wanna talk down, I don't know

Gotta take a trip to Akapoko, from the 4

With my 4-4 on my side, when I ride

Ready to do another homicide, in a pine box

And I'm gone, nigga old glory

I'm H-Town to Cali, just like Robert Horry

If I do a murder, flee the murder scene

No missing shortage on the drank, I can't find no lean

From Southwest to Southeast, bitch it's about war not bout peace

Nigga like me, I'm bout knocking out teeth

Know I'm saying, I'll loose your grill

A nigga coming down, in the Coupe Deville

Looking gravy, looking real throwed

I'ma be the nigga, pulling over at the fucking cross road

With my K on my side, I'm ready to ride

And if I gotta go, it'll be a homicide

Me and another nigga, on the way to the Golden Gate

A nigga like me, can't wait

Just to make it, to another day

Gotta get the big pay off, so get the fuck out my way

When I come around your corner, so slow

It'll be the nigga, in the damn Polo

That's the Ralph Lauren, jackers ain't barring

Why I skipped the slab, when I went straight to foreign

Said it like I said it, in the old school

Some niggaz they be red, but Z-Ro blue

I come around your corner, but I ain't set tripping

But I will, wet niggaz and wet women

With the calico, I had to let a motherfucker know

That I come around your corner, in a Lincoln four do'

A fox photo, cause I do it in a flash

Nigga watch out, cause that could be your ass

I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong

I flex my bicep, then I swoll on

Get on, the motherfucking bench

And when the laws hit the corner, I hit the fence

They wonder where I went, they keep looking

I don't give a fuck, like Tyson I keep hooking

Or maybe like Lenox, I'm strong to the finish

I'm like the ghetto Popeye, but I don't need spinach

I'ma keep going, I keep on flowing just like the Nile

Million dolla mouthpiece, everytime I smile

Look and load a, nigga ask trae

Everytime he smile, he can turn the night to day

You can open up the pop, and let the smoke come out

We don't give a damn, bout a crooked ass cop

Crooked officer, crooked officer

Make a nigga wanna blow the badge, off of ya

Me and Dougie, my motherfucking brother

R.I.P., to my motherfucking mother

That's the Dorothy Marie McVay Matthew

There's ten toes planted, in my motherfucking shoe

I gotta be a man, hope you understand

There's nothing but the work, and the calico in my hand

On a corner on the Ridgevan, and I'm serving a fiend

A real live B-Boy, and you know what I mean

I be stacking up chips, like Lego

Dark on a pump, just like Calvin Kato

Houston to the Rocket, a four-peat like Comets

I don't give a fuck, good punch a bitch nigga make him vomit

On the grind, I'ma take a trip on Greyhound

I be flying on a plane, but the dope is on the ground

Headed to Lake Charles, or headed to Lafayette

Maybe off in Alexandria, but I ain't finished yet

I gotta make a hoe I-10, I sin

Then I, do it again

I get my ends, I'm in my motherfucking Benz-e

Got these hoes running round, in a friendse

I be busting full clips, till they empty

A piece of potent pussy, might tempt me

Rain is trying to send me, to the Penitentiary

The main reason why, I ain't friendly

I'm wired up, but I ain't on no damn slaughter

Dejaun in the back, and he got the camcorder

Recording everything, the 4's gon swang

Still pulling up, on Fondren and the Main

Looking lovely, got to look good

I throw up Ridgemont 4, cause that's my hood

Never been a hoe, I'm letting hoes know

I gotta get a fucking P-L-A-T, but first a G-O

L-D, a motherfucking plack

I keep it straight and simple like that, hit a bitch from the back

And I use my, motherfucking tool

Make her say ouch, when I hit her with the mule

Thanks to Romeo Love for these lyrics