| Uh homie, you don’t really want me to shine
|
| Like Boston George, ain’t wanna give up his connect to Diego
|
| You the type of nigga that wanna come up, but want me to stay low
|
| The day I leave this bitch in a body bag, is what you pray fo'
|
| But I’m still living and ya’ll haters get mo' mad, with every breath I take
|
| Sometime I might spill a nigga, but J. Prince clean up every mess I make
|
| So like my quicker picker upper, that’s my bounty nigga
|
| My piss dirty but I ain’t smoke, just weed in my brownies nigga
|
| You don’t wan' rump with me, I’m riding with that big gun
|
| My fifty caliber shoot so far, I call that bitch my Vince Young
|
| If it’s really time to merk you homie, I ain’t gon need a rehearsal homie
|
| Cause it ain’t gon be a commercial homie, it’s sex money and murder homie
|
| Call me Vince Young homie, I got quarterback vision
|
| I can see the 5−0's, when they blitzing
|
| I see stick up kids, targeting Z-Ro for the sticking
|
| So it’s pistols in every room, every bathroom and both kitchens
|
| Better go long homie, cause you know I throw long homie
|
| But, you don’t wanna catch this pass
|
| Touchdown for the S.U.C., we soldiers united for cash
|
| Touchdown like Reggie Bush on a break away, who gon catch my ass
|
| I don’t know nobody that fast, whoo
|
| I’m feeling so Pimp C right now, call me Ro-Chad
|
| Yeah your diamonds shine but not like mine, homie that’s your bad
|
| I ain’t even a materialistic guy, I don’t love money
|
| But you might think I do cause I’ll murder you, if you try to take some from me
|
| Look at you now, you can’t even have an open casket you dumb dummy
|
| And I sleep real good every night, cause ain’t none of the bullets come from me
|
| So don’t make me Floyd Mayweather Jr. your ass
|
| Like I was 147 pounds, one hundred AK-47 rounds sit down
|
| I’m official, like a referee whistling tougher than bone grissle
|
| Put so much lead in your ass, you can be your own pencil
|
| Z-Ro the Crooked King of the Ghetto, yeah homie that’s my name
|
| And I’m healthy as a motherfucker, with seventy carats up in my chain
|
| Now I ain’t never been to 106th &Park, and sat on the couch
|
| But I’m a legend in this rap, in the South (ah-choo)
|
| Excuse me I’m allergic to bitch niggaz, I’m bitch niggaz intolerant
|
| So my stomach cr&up, whenever I run into bitch niggaz
|
| I’m rolling in my Kobe Bryant, on top of Deuce MacCallister’s
|
| I’m always in a fo' do', but I ain’t never got no passengers
|
| Good weed good drank, big money mayn
|
| I don’t get along with ya’ll fellas, but I get money mayn
|
| Most of the rappers in my city, wanna see me flop
|
| Cause when I came back home from jail, that’s when all they shows stopped
|
| I got quarterback vision, I ain’t never been sacked
|
| And I don’t walk with fifty niggaz either, how you love that |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Quarterback Vision , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album Cocaine (Screwed), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп