| In H-Town where I come from, there’s syrup in the cup
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| Grill in the mouth, big wheels on the bus
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| Where niggas put it down, and these hoes will fuck
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| You cross that thin line, and you will get touched
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| 1−8-7 I’m telling you, one time is enough
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| Leave your kids at home, cause it might get rough
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| I wreck the mic, like I’m driving drunk on the bus
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| And hit the highway, gotta refill my cuts
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| Out of town, we got the best numbers going round
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| Boys come from Canada, and sco' it by the pound
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| Sounds like another one, Presidential big guns
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| Cocked and loaded, ready cause the battle has begun
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| You niggas ain’t heard yet, them boys on shine
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| Got the do-do in the limo, sitting behind eight mile
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| We put it down down here, on the grind round here
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| If you don’t know, you will by this time next year
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| (Big Pokey *Scratching*)
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| Still off the chain
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| St-st-st-still off the chain — 2x
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| Young Fever, M-S-P my team (get it right)
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| Game dirty, but my name stay clean (all night)
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| I keep a nine cocked, locked on the beam
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| Look don’t get your head, knocked on the scene
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| You cats couldn’t knock, Kevo out the groove
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| Now I’m fever, block bleeder bitch move
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| You can find me on Southcoast, stoke (uh-huh)
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| Your baby mama, bout to shine my spokes (get it nigga)
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| Gun smoke, got my lungs on choke (I'm real)
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| Got my pint by the neck, the head poke (I'm still)
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| Presidential is the home, of my sound (that's word)
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| It’s only right, that I hold shit down (it's my turn)
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| I’m tired of niggas, steady yelling out Spre’s
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| They got revolver kits, that bitch sexy please
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| You motherfuckers can’t see me with me a flashlight (chamill nigga)
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| You wanna step to Fever, nigga get your cash right (I'm here nigga)
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| I done linked up, with Presidential
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| (Mussilini)
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| Man look I be flipping, Expedition
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| Six wood tipping, that boy must of been fishing
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| Cause he pull out so, many keys
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| Man hold up, I got so many G’s
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| I’m from the Clark-a, pull up in the blade in New York-a
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| Wetter than a snorkeler, that boy’s just like a shark-a
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| I be sniping on boys, straight strifling boys
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| Letting em know I come through, windshield wiping them boys
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| Getting the mouth on it, hollin' at my partna Tony
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| It’s that Lil' Mu', got head in the Sony
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| Deck, that boy be wrecking I chin check
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| Young niggas that, don’t show respect
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| I pull up real fast, with a black ski mask
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| That boy go so long, they call him Everlast
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| Enerjog Energizer, man I get wiser
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| Break them boys off, I’m the mic chestiser
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| I done linked up, with Presidential
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| (Big Pokey *Scratching*)
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| Still off the chain
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| St-st-st-still off the chain — 2x
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| Still off the chain
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| Sensei, keep it real in the game
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| Nigga trying to get a mill, in the game (already)
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| Me and Ro, we some real with this thang
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| Getting locked, now I kill on your dame (already)
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| You know, she like the wheels on the Range
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| You tripping, cause I’m still on my brain
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| You don’t like it nigga, deal with it mayn (already) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Free Style , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album A Bad Azz Mix Tape, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп