Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Call My Phone, artist - Z-Ro.
Date of issue: 13.07.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Call My Phone |
Bitch, you ain’t gotta call my phone |
Matta fact all you hoes can leave me alone |
I just want my money |
And now one of you nappy-headed hoes goin get none from me |
Nigga, you ain’t gotta call my phone |
Matta fact all you niggas can leave me alone |
I just want my money |
And now one of my fake ass homeboys won’t get none from me |
I don’t need know help my nigga |
I can do bad on my own |
And I don’t need no company lil momma |
Even tho I know you give great dome |
I rather play my Xbox 360 while smoking and sipping drank |
Ain’t even goin waste no gas, going to get some ass, I’m a keep my gas in my |
tank |
Keep my money in my pocket I never leave it with hoes |
Put a ring on my own finger cause I sleep with Z-RO |
Homie I’ont giva fuck about what you drive or how much money ya got |
And I don’t giva damn if y’all really like me or not |
I see ya lips moving but I can’t hear nothing, cause I’m not listening |
Hoe you only talking to me because my teeth are glistening |
Y’all niggas be riding dicks so much y’all need a dildo |
That way when you think about Z-RO, you can shove it up on yo ass real slow |
I’m a gangsta but I’m a man first, then I tolerate, no disrespect |
My momma if it’s money for me to make weed goin slip the sex |
Slim Thugga, Mothafucka |
I’m tryna stay rich, fuck a bitch (fuck a bitch) |
I rather hit the studio and make another hit (another hit) |
Stop calling on my phone mayn I’m on some other shit |
Just leave a nigga 'lone, I ain’t goin suck cause ya fucking with |
Cause bitch you ain’t about to get no dime or no quality time |
I rather be on my grind, smoking weed, writing rhymes |
All you rapping ass niggas calling me to get signed |
Want me to rap for free, you done lost yo mind (you done lost yo mind) |
I’ont care how long I knew ya give a fuck if we can |
Went to high school together giva fuck if we friends |
Ya ain’t talking bout shit if you ain’t talking bout ends |
Bring ya ten G’s, I see what’cha talking bout then |
All you roaching ass niggas and hoes in my face |
Can’t get a crumb from me, no so don’t waste |
Yo mothafuckin crime tryna plot on mine |
I got my cash in my stash locked down, so now… |
It’s a shame having a cell phone, but don’t want it to ring |
Cause I don’t wanna deal with bull shit people and the bull shit they might |
bring |
That’s why I send them the voice mail heaven (I don’t wanna talk) |
Cause bull shit run a marathon, I rather keep it real and walk |
I don’t giva damn how pretty you look, you can still kiss my ass |
Especially if I die to choose between you and my cash |
I’m a choose money everytime, anyway I always get a new whip |
Besides, I’m what bitches be tryna find, I’m young, black and I’m rich |
If you thinking I’m goin pay money to hit that ass |
I gotta trick fo yo ugly ass |
I’ll just miss you right after I hit you and then go fuck yo friends |
Then you’ll be ready to committing suicide and then I’ll never speak to you |
again |
My nigga Grady, my nigga Rick B, my nigga Michael Corleone |
There them only three niggas phone number programed in my phone |
They call me the king of the ghetto, because I rule this bitch |
I’m bout business I don’t participate in foolishness, bitch |