Lyrics Ro & Bun - Z-Ro

Ro & Bun

When we in the club, we got guns
You don’t wanna run up, on that Z-Ro and that Bun
Shit talkers, get a hole in they tongue
Shake your hand or crack your head, boy we don’t bar none hold up
Sharp as a razor blade, bitch don’t step on my shoes
You out your mind, thinking I won’t pull out this weapon on you
Phoenix Amare gators hater, yeah I’m stepping on you
So you better have at least, a 3−57 on you
Your woman is in the club, to show me love
That’s why you mean mugging me bro, but I don’t give a fuck
Don’t let this suit fool ya, cause I was raised to grub
All that touchy-feely shit, the quickest way you get fucked up
I know you feeling real good, you full of that sherm and alcohol
But it ain’t nothing friendly about me, I am not your pal at all
Unless you Rochelle and do nails, with them thick ass thighs
Otherwise I’mma leave a cereal bowl hole, in y’all bitch ass guys
When we in the club, we got guns
You don’t wanna run up, on that Z-Ro and that Bun
Shit talkers, get a hole in they tongue
Shake your hand or crack your head, boy we don’t bar none hold up
It was the summertime, and Bun is down to mack a ho (ho)
You know I graduated, from my pimping class in '94
So the sco' already known, before the game is played
Trill niggas is getting paid, bitch niggas is getting sprayed
Layed down, like a sheet on the bed
With that heat to your head, I split you from the white meat to the red
And from the red meat to the bone, when I hit your street with the chrome
Bitch you best to beat your feet, and get gone
But if haters I find that hid (hid), and think they got away with what they did
Prepare for your bitch ass, to get slid
Put that on my mama (mama), I put on for my town
Put that thang up to yo' melon, and put your ass in the ground hol' up
When we in the club, we got guns
You don’t wanna run up, on that Z-Ro and that Bun
Shit talkers, get a hole in they tongue
Shake your hand or crack your head, boy we don’t bar none hold up
I don’t really wanna do it take some pictures, and sign some auto-ma-graphs
Find a lil' bit of love for after the club, and put this rod on her ass
So I might be up and down your boulevard, picking up your baby mama mayn
And you already know I’m strapped, best thang for you to do save the drama mayn
I’m an asshole by nature, by my god damn self
I don’t love see war this bitch, I only love my god damn wealth
Behind respect I go to war, cause I’m a fool in this bitch
I’m ready to work I’m a mechanic, I got my tools in this bitch
From Mo City to Port Arthur, we all underground kings
Meet me in Mo City, and I’ll show you what underground mean
I got a rifle size hand cannon, gat in the club
Murder your ass tonight, tomorrow I’ll be back in the club for real
When we in the club, we got guns
You don’t wanna run up, on that Z-Ro and that Bun
Shit talkers, get a hole in they tongue
Shake your hand or crack your head, boy we don’t bar none hold up