Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song That Mo, artist - Z-Ro. Date of issue: 19.09.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
That Mo |
| Mo City Mo City, I got love for you |
| I layed up in jail, plus spilled and lost blood for you |
| They use to say we was a fashion show, because it was true |
| We can’t help it if we got money, but we’ll murder you too |
| If I beef with somebody, that’s not successful like myself |
| I’m waging war against nothing, and I would need to check myself |
| Round here, everybody got a murder weapon |
| Not a beginner’s pistol, leave and lease a 3−57 |
| If it’s breathing and it’s walking, and it’s talking it’s a man |
| So I’ve got no reason to fear it, I’ll drop it where it stand |
| Won’t even say I’m real, cause real got too many new definitions |
| All I know, I begin and complete my mission |
| You got a problem with me, address it |
| Don’t throw a rock into a pack of dogs, seeing if rover gon' get the message |
| I stay ready to rumble, or to let them guns buck |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |
| With a weapon in my waist, everyday when you see me walking around |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |
| Bitch stop playing with me, stop playing with me |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |
| With a weapon in my waist, everyday when you see me walking around |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |
| Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck |
| People wanna kick it with me, but I choose to be alone |
| Ain’t nobody crazy about ya, that’s why you on your own |
| That’s including me, I’m not gon' invite you in my home |
| You might not do the right thang, and end up with a rifle at your dome |
| West Few Quay to the South Post, loc Dead End |
| This is an area you can get your bread in, or come up dead in |
| Your ghetto, ain’t no different from mine |
| But this the one I ride or die for at the proper time, better respect my mind |
| Respect my mind, cause I’ll kill you nigga |
| Like I don’t see you, in my rearview nigga |
| I wish you would, try to play me like I’m soft |
| Watch me throw this bitch in park, hop out and knock your god damn head off |
| Ain’t no calling 911, and that emergency |
| I’m calling Mike Newsome and Grey-D, if too many cowards trying to murder me |
| But if it’s my time, I guess I ran out of my luck |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |
| Ridegmont, Ridgegate, Ride Gate, Provilla |
| Chasewood, Hunters Glenn y’all are all my niggas |
| Southwest, Cross and Quill Valley, Quillrun |
| Fresno and Arcola, plus the Dub we all one |
| Hiram-Clarke, South Park, Sunnyside and the Third |
| 4th Ward, 5th Ward, Trinity Garden ya heard |
| Hell yeah, Houston Teaxs we hot |
| If I forgot your hood blame it on the weed man, that’s why I forgot |
| I’m at the shooting range, jacking like I’m busting my beat |
| To me it ain’t no difference, between the shooting range and the streets |
| Do you while you with your people, like I caught you alone |
| You about to make history, but your people gon' make it home |
| I’d rather be a lover, not a fighter |
| Instead of picking up a gun, I’d rather pick up a blunt and a lighter |
| But it is what it is, y’all already know what’s up |
| I’m out that Mo, and I don’t give a fuck |