Lyrics 25 Lighters - Z-Ro

25 Lighters

Screwed Up Click soldier for life
You know what I’m talking about?
Mo' City, stand up in this motherfucker
You know what I’m saying?
My nigga Grady in this bitch, what’s up my nigga?
Huh, inside out, that boy Harv done touch ground
Hold up man, you know what I’m saying?
Ridgemont four for life
Ridgevan riders nigga Ridgemont hard heads
Huh, y’all feel me man, rest in peace to that nigga Jody
That nigga LL man, you know what I’m saying?
Shit man it’s fucked up man
Rest in peace to to that nigga E-mo
We gon' hold it down, you know what I’m talking about?
And that’s real talk
25 Lighters on my dresser, yes sir
Got a bad black bitch that drives a black Impreza
You know I’m smokin' on that herb
Every damn day just to calm my damn nerves
Screwed Up Click ain’t never gon' switch
Nigga build a ditch for a motherfuckin snitch
Talkin' to the laws given up info
Catch me at the pad black lacquer smokin' indo
Sipping on drank on a whole liter
This for nigga Moe I got a 9 millimeter
And a .45 I’m a keep it live
In '08 like I did in '95
That was the year I made it clear
Wreckin' on the microphone to get away from here
I’m reppin' for the south with diamonds in my mouth
And diamonds on my hands and diamonds in my house
Shinin' so bright even in the night
Smoking on kush, what the fuck is top flight?
I’m only on the good, bitch I wish you would
Keeping it all world y’all keepin' it all hood
Trying to get paper pull another caper
Man my house is suave something like Tony Draper
Got to get my mill from my record sell
This time last year I was in a jail cell
Waitin' for commissary waitin' on mail call
Man I can’t wait 'til I get free cause I’m a ball
Put it in they face free my partner Grace
What’s up to that Los what’s crackin' cause I’m straight lace
What’s up to that Pokey
What’s up to that Woodey
Always kept it real never act like they ain’t know me
Showed ya boy love Z-Ro is who I am
Back in the days I signed with that x fam
Me in that phat and that Street Military
R I P Maleak in the day in the cemetery
But it ain’t over chip on my shoulder
Catch me brand new candy blue Range Rover
Rollin' to the end my skin is my sin
And like Lil' Keke say it never will ever end
Gots to keep flowin' I’m a keep it goin'
Back in '92 I probably did kick your door in
Nigga lay it down, lay it down, you hoes lay it down
I reppin' for the South Side of that H-Town
Screwed Up Click until it’s over with
AK with catch bag on my shoulder bitch
You will die fuckin' with that Ro
He ain’t never been a bitch he ain’t never been no ho
Don’t know how to be a broad don’t know how to be a mark
I put the bubbles on 'cause it just turned dark
Mashin' on the gas pocket full of cash
Lookin' for a yellow bone bitch with big ass
I ain’t disrespectin' just telling the truth
Y’all know how I do it when I gets up in the booth
I’m a go hard 'til I chip my fuckin' tooth
In the Flying Spur, the four door, or the coupe
Yeah I get my paper yeah I get my bread
I don’t give a damn what you bitch niggas done said
Talkin' down on me cause I’m a get my spread
I ain’t trippin' I’m in the kitchen whippin' up a batch
Batch of them pies for all the time guys
Watchin' out for the FED’s they be in disguise
Looking like G’s looking like ballers
Looking like true money makin' shot callers
But them boys laws yeah that’s them folks
I ain’t trippin' cause I know it’s hot on Post Oak
Back in the day I had a pocket full of rocks
24/7 365 around the clock
About to get paid stackin' up my paper
I hit a lick and then it’s time for me to lay low
In front of my screen on 360 playing Halo
Hoes’ll drop it like it’s hot when ever I say so
'Cause I’m the man diamond on my hand
Got big bass in the back of the blue van
It’s blue over gold the story’s being told
Benjamin Franklin Andrew Jackson in by billfold
My flow is real cold I ain’t never been whack
And thanks to Bun B and Pimp C I got two gold plaques
They hangin' on my wall, Pimp I miss you dog
Bun B ride for that boy and make me proud
Do it for the south and do it for the Hawk
And who ever don’t like it get my dick up in they mouth
I’m Screwed Up Click 'til they lay me in my casket
I ride around Houston with that plastic
Hand on my steel, wood grain wheel
You can buy a Denali with the diamond on my grill
You can buy an apartment with the diamonds on my wrist
And can’t nobody do it like me cause I do it like this
Ain’t never had love for a bitch
All I’m really tryin' to do is get rich
Trying to get my fuckin' bread baby
Ride in Mercedes I know a nigga hate me
But I don’t give a damn nah I don’t give a fuck
I’m ridin' on draped up 26's on my truck
Hell yeah bitch I know they large
Got three foreign cars in my garage
I never sabotage my fuckin' career
Had to make it clear and I shed another tear
But nigga I’m real bumper and the grill
When I do my music it’s the music you can feel
'Cause I’m just a G, ridin' one deep
And every time I ride I ride with gun on seat
Watchin' out for jackers 'cause I know they scopin'
Tryin' to leave a real niggas head wide open
Pullin' down swangers 'cause they ain’t clackin'
I’m rollin' on 20 inch 4's bitch what happenin'
Lookin' so fly I don’t smoke fry
Got to be a G 'til the day that I die
That’s my big homey boy that Lil' Ke
Boy you know I love you man it’s you and me
In this damn thing we gon' do it for the Screw
And do it for the South and I’m a do it for you
And you gon' do it for me it’s S.U.C
Screwed Up Click until I D I E
Nigga don’t get me crunk watch me pop trunk
Smoking on kush ain’t never seen skunk
Man I’m so throwed caught me in the zone
I don’t give a fuck about you callin' on my phone
I fucks with the stripper, Versace on my zipper
This the nigga Ro I’m taper fade with the clipper
I brought my partner for my partner Paul
About to make a million dollars and buy the whole mall
Call that bitch Ro' Town and it’s gon' go down
A couple of days from now I got a show in your town
And I’m gon' get paid and I’m gon' get laid
And every car I drive, candy paint gon' get sprayed
On the doors nigga and on the side dog
And I ain’t scared I got Jesus on my side dog
Hit the church house and then go work out
And after that you it’s time to pull the purp out
And I’m a roll one then I’m a smoke one
Then I’m a roll one then I’m a smoke one
Then I’m a roll one then I’m a smoke one
Now I’m out of my mind that’s what that smoke done
But I’m a maintain still in the same game
But only thing ain’t makin' the same change
I’m gettin' paid boy you better believe that
A Grammy on my shelf I’m gon' achieve that
'Cause I can do it nigga even though y’all say I can’t
But I don’t give a fuck about y’all I’m about my bank
I hope you feel that bitch look at you
If I peel your wig back nobody would be missin' you
You a ho nigga not a role nigga
'Cause Z-Ro make more dough nigga
More verses, more mixtapes, more shows nigga
And I ain’t ever at home I’m on the road nigga
I’m chasing fedi baby y’all ain’t ready baby
Yeah I’m heavy like a motherfuckin' Chevy baby
Or like a Ford I’m built Ford tough
Blowin' on that real real purple purple stuff
Talking about that kush got it from the bando
Watch me come down with my pistol in my hand ho
Don’t run up on me if you don’t want to get shot
I’m a grab my remote and give it all that it got
Hold up man hold up
Bring that bitch back