| Too many niggas trying to take me off of my game
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| Cause a nigga from the hood that done looked some good
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| Now they all want to jock my fame
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| But when I’m coming down in my? |
| born?
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| And I’m rolling one deep that should tell you about me
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| I don’t give a damn about none of you hoes
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| I blast on sight cause I ain’t tripping no more
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| Nigga I’m tired, this drama got me booted and fried
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| At least I got records in the store bitch nigga you getting dried
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| Steady running around rapping and capping and talking shit
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| I got gorillas every where be careful who you walking with
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| Southside, south-sid for live, wouldn’t want to be you
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| Be running up on you closed casket nobody gonna see you
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| Bitch it’s over, barely with Barber right behind me in the rover
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| My partner from Mercy told you we gone get you if we owe you
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| Military minded I’m a S.U.C. |
| soldier
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| Don’t want it if it’s hard cause the south lets you see over
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| I’m trying to keep my head on, but it’s rolling off my shoulders
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| When I lost my people god damn, my heart was pumping colder
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| Shedding crocodile tears, man folks feeling this pain
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| And left a stain in my brain so I’m cracking like a window pain
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| On the edge having a conversation with my infrared
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| All these fuck niggas can get it two to the head and get dead
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| It’s the return of Z-Ro the Crooked busting heads strictly for cash
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| Taking out contracts on haters with a beam and a mask
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| You can run you can hide but it ain’t no escaping
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| I’m a trend setter with a beretta for real it ain’t no faking
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| I done showed up, then I poured up, then I blowed up like heats
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| Diamond slugs up on my teeth, I done been violent fuck the peace
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| I got a slug for these haters that’s approaching me wrong
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| Let them mash off in first class there ain’t no coaching my song
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| Hydro-V to the dome, with it on back to the chrome
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| I’m kind of quick to click so get gone or catch one to the dome
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| Mo-City Texas that’s my home, but I can rome all over
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| So it’s ghetto love these cats gone get me full up on sober
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| Real recognize real, and the fake gone fade away
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| Use to selling drugs to get that pay, but god done mad a way
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| For me to stack my ends, my paper, my moola, my fetty
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| And took this by surprise I knew you hoes wasn’t ready
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| Remember back in 94' they use to laugh at me team
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| Now it’s year 2k2 women be after me team
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| But fuck a female, it’s all about my retail
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| On tapes and c.d.'s they was capping I stay making daily breakers
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| C.d., and they chose to make tapes, up on the stage
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| It use to be all about hooping now I’m all about getting paid
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| Getting leid I can miss it, I’d rather have my digits
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| Trying to get up on me a stack, taller than the tallest midget
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| I’m on bitches than a red nose pit, with his mouth on it
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| I be platinum 'fore it’s over bitch I put the south on it
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| You can put your mouth on it, if you ain’t than zip it up
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| Get off my dick bitch right quick because I’m about to rip it up
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| And for no reason at all, it’s fuck y’all
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| Fuck around and get to busting so you best to best duck dog
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| I’ve been going through a whole thang, everyday
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| So I don’t give a damn if you get chose man I got this k, and I don’t play |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Shelter From The Storm - Chopped , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album My Favorite Mixtape, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп