| Dum-dum, da-da-da-da-dum, dum-dum
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| Dum-dum dum-dum, da-da-da-da-dum, dum-dum
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| On the latest roll with my boy Z-Ro here
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| Z-Ro you ready ha, Rock yeah you dropping that hot shit
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| You really dropping that hot shit ha, Z-Ro let me
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| Hear what you gonna sing for this one, come on
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| Three liter big red, got diluted nines fed
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| Able to make a bitch, wanna suck my naked head
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| I get fly when I wanna, graduated from corners
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| I know it tingle, cause your pussy marinated my sauna
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| If you capping I ain’t tripping, cause I really don’t need you
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| Prolly say your pussy gon be beat up, and having a seizure
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| Overseas vacation, Prime Co. communication
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| And radio stations, got us in regular rotation
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| Cause the guns unloaded, lot of heads got exploded
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| Destined to be the throwdest, if I’m properly promoted
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| Sewed it up like a sweater, financial back or go-getter
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| Then through your vest chest, with the talons in my baretta
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| Stay one step ahead of, my competition they better
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| Fly down from overseas sign down, and get to chumping for cheddar
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| 26 letters than Ro, if you ain’t know now you know
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| From Ridgemont 4 to Acapulco, I’m gripping grain in my flame
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| Sunday morning pulling out my bitch, I’m looking good
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| Nothing but diamonds around neck and around my wrist, I’m looking good
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| Doubles breasted tailor made, I’m 'Sacci'd down to the flo'
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| And it don’t matter, if you step on my wing tipped shoe
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| Cause I’ma just go buy me some mo', (what it is what it is)
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| Rolly on me wrist, Sansun me wrist band
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| 20 inch rims, on me suspension
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| Foreign replay, and not forge my stun-a
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| Dressed everyday, in the latest fashion look
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| Boys the enemy, best respect the man
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| Listen to me, know it’s rule number one
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| No buster ain’t right, we told the game plan
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| You do, you better and change the wrist band
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| The way me flow, my retaliation
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| So listen to me boy understand, understand
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| It’s a bezeled out wrist, and that I wear everyday
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| On the right hand-a, the Presidential Rolly
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| And it’s crossed off, like a ton of ice on the tray
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| And the price start-a, my choice to lose security
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| If you don’t believe me, ask your old lady
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| I know she saw it, from 'Poko miles away
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| Pull up to my bump, as I let it recline
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| 13's easy five screens, it ain’t no fucking with mine
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| They think I’m fucking with nine, but I multiplied it by fo'
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| It took some time, but I decided to throw my bitch on the 4's
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| The bubble-eyed Mazaratti, on a mission to meet Scotty
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| With bullets for your body, cause I’m living like Gotti
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| Pistol grip and a beam, plus a murdering team
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| Cash rule everything me, that there ain’t nothing but green
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| Jumping in and out of line, moving slow as I wanna
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| Smoking reefer bending corners, on 20 inch Yokohama
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| Cause these niggas be hating me, when I be crawling down
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| So I’m like Paul Bugsy with a infrared, cause these niggas be falling down
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| Steady yelling out timber, from the first dance January down to the last dance
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| December better remember, put a big shell casing up in you
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| Make you weak like SWV, when I shine and grind like E.S.G
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| But I gotta get love like the Big Steve, throwed in the game like that P-A-T
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| (*talking*)
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| Alright, ha-ha
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| You know so we keeping it real, yeah
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| Southside, Southside ha
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| How you mean, Papa Reu, my boy Z-Ro
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| You know Rock with another hit
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| Ha-ha, you know he here with another hit
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| Ha-ha yeah, yeah-yeah |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Looking Good (feat. Papa Rue) , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album Straight Profit, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп