Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Screwed Up, artist - Z-Ro. Date of issue: 09.10.2000
Song language: English
Screwed Up |
| Screwed Up Click killas these niggas don’t want none |
| When I be coming down and gripping, on my gun |
| Finger, on the trigger, every-body ducking |
| And running, from the scene cause Z-Ro done start busting |
| No Longer, serving fiends, I’m serving the drug dealers |
| Affiliated with killers and multiple blood spillers |
| A nigga from out the 4, you know I, don’t sleep |
| If a nigga don’t work then a nigga, don’t eat |
| So a nigga is gone hustle, a nigga is gone grind |
| Watch a young nigga shine, bitch this world is mine |
| I wanted to ball in the mix, I turned my crumbs into brick |
| Out of town, dump u-haulers turning east bigga niggas in and out |
| With one callers, we shot callers, and ballas and 20 inch blade crawlers |
| Big body, tinted up, Mazzaratti Impala |
| We prowlers on the scene, we go our mug on mean |
| It use to be sipping fours but now it’s jugs of that codeine |
| Quarter pines be puffing but it ain’t nothing but grass |
| Now how you love this bezeltine and all this wood on my dash |
| All this starch on my ass, and all this money in my stash |
| And how you love the way your hoes get all this dick in they ass |
| We Screwed Up entertainers, hoe ass nigga restrainers |
| Assembly line in the kitchen pickens in proper containers |
| We real niggas, not ill niggas, polos rap more than Hilfigers |
| We in this rap game to get mill niggas, running up on us you get killed niggas |
| Money making we gone ball baby, we coming down |
| We some six figga niggas Screwed Up Click on the rise |
| Screwed Up Click’d never fall baby, we coming down |
| We some six figga niggas Screwed Up Click on the rise |
| Staying crunk, blazing blunts, jamming Z-Ro funk |
| Keep mind on money working my hundred got these boys popping trunks |
| Screwed Up baller in the mix, trying to turn these crumbs into some bricks |
| Sideways on switches we gone sip, drinking on drink and smoking dip |
| Living my life in slow motion, riding high sipping potion |
| Bring wet on fly like the ocean, got a Screwed Up playa just coasting |
| With mind at ease blowing trees, stacking g’s, swanging threes |
| We coming down watch us clown in these H-Town streets |
| Popped up and shining and blind you, fifth wheels reclining they minding |
| It’s about that time Screwed Up take over, wrecking boys skills in rhyming |
| Six figga niggas and drug dealers pimping pens for our scrilla |
| Sipping drink and smoking killer, the coast, fly figgas |
| Pad blessed and chopped records Screwed Up, Houston Texas |
| We coming down, looking good gripping wood like some veterans |
| Money making Screwed Up baller blade crawling, shot calling |
| Made living missing Christmas stacking ends never falling |
| (talking) |
| Shit, Screwed Up Click on the rise baby |
| Big Jett hollering at all my partnas, youknowI’msaying |
| Wave that shit for your hood |
| We gone ball till we fall |
| Knocking down Fassacci at the mall |
| Everytime I sip my cup gone stand tall |
| Got a wide ass phone when I make my call |
| White folks be tripping on salary cap |
| That’s why your Prime Co. phone tapped |
| Studied the dope game for the rap |
| Now cause of my skin I travel the map |
| From stage to stage to stage to stage |
| Making a loot with a loose leaf page |
| I got on my knees and I say my praise |
| And repent everytime I misbehave |
| You want to get me for my riches |
| Better mind your bidness, I minded for you |
| Fuck around and touch your brain I ball |
| With a mug Z-Ro gone shine for you |
| I call the shot, cause I cop the clock |
| Everytime it get hot I drop the top, or |
| Bunny hop up out the cream of the crop |
| Smash on the gas and never stop for cops |
| Ball till I fall, that’s what I’m gone do |
| Screen in my phone screaming who you do |
| I bleed the block with a hand full of rocks now |
| I got a cassette and as long as you |
| Talk about the fame, bout the struggle |
| Talk about how long it took a nigga to bubble |
| Since I call the shots I don’t call them off |
| Hoes flock around me like a first time huddle |
| Don’t have to kiss, I don’t have to fuck |
| I just pull out my dick bitch you could suck |
| Or ball till I fall, and if I ever fall down |
| I’ma rescore and bounce right back up |