| Once upon a time, not long ago
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| There was a hustling motherfucker, with a cold ass flow
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| Everytime he hit the studio, his beeper go off
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| He left the beef to get his cheese, by selling people that raw
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| With a pistol on his right side, and one in his back
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| I-10 again and again, from running that crack
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| Girlfriend kept complaining, cause he never at home
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| So he told her deal with it bitch, or get the fuck on
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| It was money over bitches, on his mind
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| Plus all of his partnas, thought that he would never shine
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| The number be 15 and 5, up in the kitchen
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| He could do it straight up, or he could do it with a whipping
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| But then came a drought, and then he put his first album out
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| Decided to do it full time, cause record stores kept selling out
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| Still in the game, cocaine on top of the brain
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| From the studio to the streets, Z-Ro is everything
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| King of the ghetto, I’m sitting on my throne
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| Got a red light, sitting on my chrome
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| Ridgemont Texas, representing
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| With a taper fade, sitting on my dome
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| I mash niggas, and I thrash niggas
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| When it come down, to the cash nigga
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| Beat that ass, in a flash nigga
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| Pistol play, and I’ma blast nigga
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| Gangstafied, from toe to head
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| All day long, I chase my bread
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| But on the low, I don’t fuck with FED’s
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| Cause a snitch nigga, get dressed in red
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| Shut up bitch, she look so lie
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| But they don’t know, she’ll take your life
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| Not giving a fuck, or get fucked up
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| And end up dead, with your dick in the sky
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| Go my way, we gon have fun
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| Instead of happiness, we have done
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| About our business, corrupting our kidneys
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| All that codeine, weed and drugs
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| I’m leaning over, but still a soldier
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| Pimp my pen, like I’m suppose to
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| Nothing but the finest, light green doja
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| Got it from C-Note, from the Clover
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| Animal thug, I thug for life
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| So I ain’t going, to the club tonight
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| Block is bleeding, I’m here for the eating
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| And supervising, my funds tonight
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| I scuffle and hustle, on my grind
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| No matter the weather, no matter the time
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| Roll out the red carpet for Z-Ro, this world is mine
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| Who that bumping, who that beefing
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| Hope you brought something, to put your chief in
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| Interrupting me, while I’m reefer chiefing
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| I’m a gangsta, not Erkle Steven
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| Cause I don’t laugh, and I don’t play
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| And no, is something that I don’t say
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| I don’t give a motherfuck, about your day
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| Ho, get the fuck out of my way
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| I’m lean as fuck, and don’t like nobody
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| My style of rap, is unlike nobody
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| I let off fo' shots, and hit fo' bodies
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| OG with it, like Amas Rodney
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| Still in the game, as a MVP
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| Dealing with haters, that envy me
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| Fuck fabricated, and commercializing
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| I’ma bring my block, to MTV
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| Show love, and do all I can
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| For all my people, and all my fans
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| But motherfuckers, be hating me
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| For the life of me, I can’t understand
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| Cause I’m cool as hell, till a hater get bold
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| Step out of line, fuck around get stoled
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| I must be, their motherfucking issue
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| Cause all these niggas, getting drove
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| Up a lot, like a Volkswagon
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| I get a commission, for toe tagging
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| A slim killa, with a wide body
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| Polo top, and Polo sagging
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| I live my life, like I don’t care
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| But every night, I be deep in prayer
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| Then I get off, my knees
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| And hustle, straight like that there |