Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song I Found Me (slowed) , by - Z-Ro. Release date: 11.08.2001
Song language: English
I Found Me (slowed) |
| Nigga fuck all y’all |
| Fuck all these niggas, and fuck all these hoes |
| If I needed a ride, I called on niggas |
| If I wanted some ass, I called on hoes |
| But not no mo' though, I get around in a tinted out fo' do' |
| And ain’t got no mixed emotion, is a fa sho thang |
| Don’t fuck with Ro ho, I done lost all of my love |
| Razor blade to the wrist, damn near lost all of my blood |
| This is to all my thugs, fuck ya’ll niggas |
| Y’all just come around, cause I got them drugs |
| When all my drugs gone, nigga all my thugs gone |
| And I’m scared to eat, the last of the bread and the butter |
| Because after that, all the god damn bud gone |
| I’m a mo’fucking struggler, I wish I was a bubbler |
| Mama said that, it would it be days like this |
| But not a life like this, so I take a knife like this and slice like this |
| Take life like this, fuck around and I take my own life like this |
| Or click me a bitch nigga, in the windpipe like this |
| That’s right bitch, I’m a ignant son of a bitch |
| And I do click quick, it might be halves and zones |
| To break a nigga bones, but never be stones and sticks |
| I ain’t the shit bitch, I’m the motherfucking commode |
| And fuck everybody that ain’t Z-Ro, that’s on my soul |
| Finally, I found me |
| Man fuck, finally I found me |
| Man fuck you hoes, I found me |
| I use to be a cool cat |
| Now a victim of the blues cat |
| I got tired of motherfuckers, taking a nigga for granted |
| All I got is my mind, I can’t lose that |
| I’mma use that, even though a nigga mind gone |
| It ain’t lost, cause I know where it’s at |
| Just on another level than boys, around here |
| For the paper stack, cause I’mma go where it’s at |
| I sound like a (big nigga), but I’m a (lil nigga) |
| Damn though, some of y’all try to bo’gaurd |
| Piss a nigga off and get that ass caught, late night |
| On the backstreets, hollin' oh Lord |
| It ain’t no mercy, I still wanna see you bleed |
| Because, I don’t give a damn no more |
| Niggas see 3D-2, and but hollin' out fuck you hoes |
| Finally, I found me |
| It’s still Guerilla Maab, and ain’t a damn thang changed |
| I just peeped the game, and these niggas be shife |
| Over the years, I seen a lot of niggas turn fake |
| Riding thick on the cool, and then I have to erase |
| You see me and the Maab, done learned without a thang |
| Man most of these niggas, be around for the fame |
| It ain’t no more love, therefor if you ain’t kin |
| And if you get up in mine, you gon meet your end |
| I’m one of a kind, I think you better check yourself |
| And it don’t mean a damn thang, if I shake your hand |
| If I ain’t too enthused, and I got on a mean mask |
| You better stay on note, cause I’ll beat your ass |
| It’s Guerilla Maab this, and Guerilla Maab that |
| I think you better get back, and shut the fuck up |
| For you straight step off, and get fucked up |
| Nigga Trae and Dougie D and Z-Ro, take nuts |
| So don’t come around now bitch |
| When you showed everybody, all kinds of love |
| And I ain’t got none left, didn’t nobody wanna care |
| How we thug, that’s why I’m fin to be alone till I meet my death |
| Everybody we was cool with, fuck you too |
| And everybody who was hating us, fuck you too |
| It just took a little time, for me to find myself |
| And that’s why we getting rich off ourself |
| Better watch your back, and identify yourself |
| Nigga one mo' step, and I’mma cock back every weapon |
| I pack, fuck around and fr-fry yourself |
| A punk ass patty melt, no remorses gon be felt |
| When I be dealing, with a less than G individual |
| Nothing but a AK shot, is gon be felt |
| I never did trust no bitch, and I don’t trust no nigga |
| Fuck all of my associates, but in a life of a life |
| This motherfucker like me, you get what you suppose to get |
| Pussy in the middle of the fo’head, I wanna see my foes dead |
| And I smoke, one of these old busted up ass hoes |
| Old trailer trash ass hoes, I live life one deep |
| And I don’t speak to the Nankeen no mo', nigga they know |
| Coming around my neck of the woods, is a no-no |
| Cause I got a 4−4, lay low please |
| Everytime I open my mouth, mo’fuckers would never believe |
| That’s why a nigga trip a lil bit, with a razor blade |
| And the reason, I wear long sleeves |
| Y’all can’t help me, I don’t want your help |
| I just want some, leave me alone |
| I don’t wanna go to the club, I’m cool in the streets |
| Bitch, just leave me to roam |
| Don’t call my cell phone, give folk don’t give a damn |
| If I get one in my dome, fuck you dealing |
| Y’all don’t understand my zone, finally I found me |
| (*talking*) |
| This Ridgemont 4 forever, Z-Ro |
| The motherfucking Crooked, know I’m saying |
| I ain’t having that riff-raff man, I don’t buy wolf tickets |
| You know I’m saying, so send the hoes to another |
| Nigga, you feel me, it’s 2K1 bitch, forever |
| Screwed Up Click, my niggas ain’t going nowhere |
| Still chopping with Double D nigga, tap tap |