| We third coast, all about our feddy bleed the block and get ghost
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| Different strokes for different folks, so we choose to cutthroat
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| We ain’t riding on no horses down here
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| We get it how we live, that’s why it go down round here
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| We third coast and I’m a soldier united, for the cash
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| Steady, I be ducking the law cause consistent they clocking cash
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| Moving fast, I’m running around looking over my shoulder
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| Running to use my cash, one of my a.c. |
| tell em on E running up my gas
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| I’m just a G, everybody in the streets know me
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| I represent that Killa Klan and the S.U.C., and the Guerilla M double A-B
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| They call me Ro Dog, giving it to you raw, fast or slow dog
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| It just took a little time for me to shine and get up in the game and roll dog
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| Now I’m full grown like H-Town be the aids, Z-Ro done got full blown
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| Then I stood up in the ring
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| And a nigga done bit the dust, but the bill got pulled on
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| And I’ll super-soak the crowd, if I have to
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| Nigga with Benjamin faces I be after, then I get ghost like casper
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| Don’t work then don’t eat, play the game but don’t cheat
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| Cause trying to get it up out my stash, I’ll have you falling to your knees
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| Please, respect all of us less fortunate G’s
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| Cause we coming up from selling ki’s, to straight selling c.d.s
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| Who it be Z-Ro, Southside on the map I put it down
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| I’m accurate with my aim, anytime I bu-buck them down
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| Brother don’t mess around, give me a chance I won’t let you down
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| But if you try to step on my toes, I’ma pull my water pistol and wet you down
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| It be a real deal, watch out lil daddy these Presidential boys real steel
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| Anybody draw they get too close, watch I better get a deal grill
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| For mill candy paint, catch me riding on a full tank
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| Every now and then, a yellow bone I spank
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| I’m about the real, I don’t pull no pranks
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| Steady smoking lean, cause I’m third with a triple beam
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| Piece and a chain and a diamond ring, and a heavy stay flow up in my jeans
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| The definition of Southside Houston Texas, we drop the top
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| Ain’t no way in hell it’s ever gone stop, can’t stop
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| Go on and put me for a show, I want ten grand plus half the do'
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| No sub in the front just plain Z-Ro, not a substitute cause I ain’t gone go
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| Nowhere life is hard but it’s fair, living my life like I don’t care
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| Look at my feelings when they get wet, they tend to stare
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| Don’t make a sudden move, just may be a sudden death
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| These characters think they bulletproof
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| But evidently, capping must not of been blessed
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| So victory for me, another victim of the mighty Southside
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| Got everybody running back off in the house, and scared to come back outside
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| Radio stations recognize, getting my regular thoughts in time
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| Hate me off that corner, Z-Ro tired of feeling nickels and dimes
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| The definition of a hustler, Houston Texas, we bleed the block
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| Ain’t no way in hell it’s ever gone stop, can’t stop |