| Now what you, bout those Texan wire wheels
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| So clean on the scene, we make haters stop drop and roll like it’s a fire drill
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| Pimp C told you, that us Texas boys fly and trill
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| Screwed Up Clicksters, we keep it hood and ride for scrill
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| Glance at the roof top, it’s transformatic time baby
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| Blink twice, now it’s panoramic time baby
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| Take a good glimpse, you see them stars in the night
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| Now take another one, cause them stars in the night
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| Swang left then turn a right, wide circle then run alight
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| I’m out of sight out of mind, you already know where my gun is right
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| I got them diamonds, pressing up against the wood grain steering
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| They glaring like the paint, so them jazzy bops is staring
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| Yeah they calling my issue pound, apple express way
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| A three and a pound apple crush, helps me express in the best way
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| So yeah I’m leaning, off a hundred worth of that mud
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| I’m golden, I’m holding in the place they see dot Dub
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| I’m rolling on swangas, and smoking that good
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| One hundred dollas worth of drank up in my cup, it tastes so good
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| The jack boys watching me, but I really wish they would
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| Hell yeah I’m a playa, but don’t get it misunderstood
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| Cause I’m rolling on swangas, and I’m looking so fly
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| All the women break they neck, watching me as I pass by
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| And you can do it too, if that’s really what you feel
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| No one on the corner, got swangas like us
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| We don’t do regular wheels, not even if it’s a truck
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| Yeah they free for me, for you they gon' cost a couple bucks
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| So if you po' hustling dog, you best to get your hustle up
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| I got swangas on my van, and swangas on my 300
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| And whichever one I’m in, you better believe I’m so blunted
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| I might be 8−7-3−2, down to flo' in a pair of gators
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| Dickie top Dickie bottom, and a fresh pair of Chuck Taylors
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| Either way it go I’m so clean, and all of my diamonds bling bling
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| One deep for life, if you ain’t a weapon then you ain’t riding with me
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| And I only believe half of what I see, and none of what I hear
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| Addicted to promethazyne with coedine, what the hell is a beer
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| We don’t drink that over here, cause that’s a no-no
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| I never tasted a Corona, but I can tell you all about that drank and that
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| doe-doe
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| First the fresh meat then a yellow stripe, then a white wall
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| And that’s why your woman head, go up and down all night dog
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| I’m a gangsta, by any means necessary
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| I won’t be making love to your lil' Jodeci, I’ma be doing you to Street
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| Military baby
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| So hood, I might put swangas on a Mercedes baby
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| And my ride so clean, I know you wanna have my baby baby
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| Thinking you gon' take something from me, you must be crazy
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| Cause this gun I’m packing, is way bigger than your 3−80
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| And I ain’t a killer, but please don’t push me baby
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| Cause real homies, know Glocks don’t have a safety baby
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| I’m a legend in this game, I know you heard of me
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| Z-Ro the Crooked, I’ll turn a peaceful place into a murder scene
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| My love is for the money, it damn sho' ain’t for these hoes
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| And I can’t forget about cars and clothes, that’s all I know
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| As soon as a broad commit, she on her way back out the do'
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| Since I’m a pimp, I don’t want the booty all I want is that do'
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| Girl drop it off to daddy, then go out and get some mo'
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| And bring it to 3rd Coast Customs, the realest homies I know |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rollin On SwangaZ , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album Heroin, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп