Z-Ro - Mirror, Mirror lyrics

rate me

[Z-Ro]

Let my coedine settle, and have a toast one time

Multiplications on my digits, come up over some time

3-57 in my spine, they can't hold me like Kobe Bryant

Powered up, popping tulips and clovers and stop signs

Taylor made, Gucci looking like a million bucks

Neck full of gold baggets, and trillion cuts

I reside on cuts, cause having money is a must

Give me the issue or get touched, the scuffling up

Fuck with the raw like a cut, cause I hit too hard

Radio stations don't play, cause I spit too hard

I know they hate me everyday, and I ain't quit so far

But if you cross the line, AK is gone hit your car

[Hook]

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the throwdest of them all

Cause you know my name, it's Z-Ro the Crooked

Z-Ro the Mo City Don, it ain't over it just begun

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the throwdest of them all

Cause you know my name, it's Z-Ro represent the third coast

Let my codeine settle, and have a toast

[Z-Ro]

I'm a guerilla that's after the scrilla, I cock glocks

I'm the top knotch, body armored like Shaq done blocked shots

Dropping cops cause they crooked, I'm the law now

Posted on the corner, selling raw now

Looking for them people, keep an open eye

And if I see the jackers, never hesitate I gotta open fire

Active like a live wire, retalliation is a must

Rock and buy these bezzels, and then I bust

Geniva watch, telling me it's time to ball

Get in the line till I make it to the front, and then it's time to fall

But if I ever fall off, just fall back behind the scene

Take seven, catch me up in sitcoms and big screens

[Hook]

[Z-Ro]

When I roll, I roll one deep

I never stop wrecking, these H-Town streets

And ain't nobody holding me down I'm a roll, I'm rolling

If you didn't know Southside still holding, folding

Big lemon faces, got real money cause I catch cases

Sipping on skeet tastes, and I'ma lean in private or public places

Milicated refreshness, keep my mind at ease

Trying to reach another level, keep me climbing trees

Coming smoke out my nose, bald faded minus before

Keep it gangsta, got groupie hoes striking a pose

But see they ain't getting chose, or catch me tipping my dob

I need a independent thug chick, launder money and drug shit

I'm the boss hog, ain't nobody hogging me over harder

Soft then I'm off, in the funk in my roller

[Hook x2]