Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Never Been, artist - Z-Ro. Album song Angel Dust, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 01.10.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rap-A-Lot
Song language: English
Never Been |
The less I fuck with you niggas, the better I feel |
Don’t know no nothin' else what I can be if I wasn’t real |
I borrowed those lines from Plies, that’s just how I feel |
Brass knuckles and a 38 with a beam, that’s just how I chill |
AK-47 and a ski mask, that’s how I kill |
Professional dranka' my nigga, my cup will never spill |
Where I’m from, the police is the only thing I’ll run from |
Only thang on my mind is money, and what bitch I can get some from |
I ain’t never been a bitch, don’t know how to be a hoe |
Only thing I know how to do is collect my dough |
So if you owe me money, pay me on time |
8−7-tre-4−2-4, death before dishonor on mine |
Me be a punk, I would have to leave this world for that |
Matter fact my momma coulda' had a girl for that |
If I hold my hands a certain when I’m in the courtroom |
That could guarantee me walkin' out of the courtroom |
Ain’t no other rapper got a set of skills like Ro got |
I swear I’m half a man and half machine, call me Ro-bot |
You ain’t gotta wonder if Z-Ro gon' ever sell out, Z-Ro not |
From Greenspoint to Mo-City, Texas, all of that’s Ro block |
Kick door burglars started in my hood, so watch yo' door lock |
Kick that bitch in, roll in yo' shit, take everything and then roll out |
That was '94, I was hiding out, homicide was trying to find me |
Ain’t that a bitch, now I got my whole city and state behind me |
I’m cool as a popsicle, in the freezer, in the winter time |
But I’m a damn fool and a half about respect, so give me mine |
Uhhh, so when they lay me in my hole |
They gon' say that was a man right there homie, I put that on my soul |
I ain’t never been a bitch or don’t know how to be a hoe |
Only thing I know how to do is go get the dough |
The cheese, the bread, the feria, lucci |
Hoe I just want what’s in your purse, you can keep the cuchi |
I ain’t never been a bitch or don’t know how to be a hoe |
Only thing I know how to do is go get the dough, Heyy |
Even if they kill me I ain’t going no where |
Turn up the volume to the radio, I’ll be right there |
(Ro-Pac) It feels so good to be free, I ain’t even thinkin' bout a penitentiary |
Apple sauce and yellow grits, that ain’t breakfast |
T-bone steak and eggs back in Screwed Up Texas |
Ain’t a thang change, everything still the same |
Haters still hated, gangbangers still bang |
Police still fuck wit anybody that’s makin' change |
Snitches still need a record deal cuz they still sang |
You ain’t no woman, you a bitch to me |
And a friend, still ain’t shit to me |
Everytime I make a hundred thousand dollars, here they come |
If I’m doing bad, they the ones I don’t here from |
Y’all niggas ain’t real like Hawk and Screw |
And since y’all ain’t them, y’all the ones I’m talkin' too |
Y’all niggas ain’t shit, y’all pussies and some tits |
But got the nerve to say that you a blood or a crip |
First one to set trip, but the first one to run |
Own six or seven guns, but you never shot one |
I Pray towards the sun everyday before I’m done |
When it rain on me it ain’t water, its money by the ton |
I’m only one man with an Earth worth of foes |
They hate me in the hood, in public and at my shows |
If looks can kill I die when they ride by |
But ask them why they hate me and they don’t know why |
Send a playa through hell and back, then they sent me to prison |
But check me out homie I’m free and I’m still livin' |
So many women and men don’t want me to win |
I got God, that’s why they bullets can’t break my skin |
Roll foreign in the winter, American in the spring |
Any other time a playa, stretch Hummer limousine |
Whether you see me in person, or in a magazine |
I keep bags of purple, ain’t no mo' bags of green |
I’m white t-shirt, white 1's and blue jeans |
The MVP and the only player on my team |
The female scream cuz I’m the man of they dreams |
I’m represented by my piece, chain, watch and my ring |
Yea I’m on the radio, yea I’m on the television |
But never sellin' my soul is the most important mission |
No mo' whippin chickens up in the kitchen, nigga please |
If I ain’t pimpin my bitches, then I must be over seas |
I drop a lot of CD’s, that’s how I make cheese |
So much ice in my mouth, my breath is a cool breeze |
Pardon my rainbow, a playa just had to sneeze |
My game tight 360 degrees |
I ain’t a fresh prince, I’m a muthafuckin' king |
This ain’t a pistol, this is a muthafuckin' machine |
50 caliber brown, and this is something you never seen |
Big enough to hit when it miss, and it don’t need a beam |
I shake a lot of hands, walk across a lot of stages |
My signature at the bottom of a lot of pages |
Even without a diamond I still shine bright |
And I hog the lime light, that’s because I rhyme tight |
Kush keep my mind right, cuz I stress so bad |
Sometimes I lose my temper and get so mad |
But a voice say, «Ro, focus and get yo' cash» |
You wanna know if I do that, you better bet yo' ass, BEOTCHH!!! |