Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Time and Again (feat. Daz & Thug Dirt), artist - Z-Ro.
Date of issue: 26.10.1999
Song language: English
Time and Again (feat. Daz & Thug Dirt) |
Yeah, let me count that up right there |
Real shit, know I mean, you know I mean, what’s up Z-Ro |
Yeah, this a real one, inhale that shit nigga |
Time and time again |
I get caught up, trying to make those ends |
In my liiiiiife, cause everything I do |
Is a criiiiime, what else could I do |
I would like, to make a change |
But being broke, will make a nigga stay the same |
In my liiiiiife, tell me what to do |
At least I grind, what else could I do |
I never ever ever ever, did nobody ever wrong |
Will I live, with a nigga be bumping my song |
Will my soul live, forever or will it be gone |
Will I journey on, will I journey on |
My journey was swift and thick |
Came up in the game, slanging these rhymes to get rich |
Fifty thousand, to a hundred thousand |
I perfected my housing, now me and my niggas is cold cold lounging |
Roll a Five Hundred Wagon, we blasting the morgue |
Cause body bagging, back to the hood cause we sagging |
I ain’t asking for no handout, see my demands bout |
That’s when I planned out, see I just cash out |
Make sure it’s all there, Dat Nigga Daz out |
Now I’m swerving and swerving nigga, without a doubt |
It’s just another day, just for the D-A-Z |
Or it just another day, got me just being a G |
Be so easily spoken, my minds are open |
My eyes are open, I keep smoking |
And spilling that mud leaning, me and my niggas we super thugs |
Bitch, who the fuck that you thought it was |
I’ma pledge allegiance, to this crooked ass game |
Walking backwards through this rhythm this nation, without a name |
I don’t need to be known, I just to be living like it |
Cause I come from Holiday, there’s no other prison like it |
I fuck with niggas like Chill, and the Don Keke |
Cause not only are they killas, they be about they currency |
Somebody told me Z-Ro, get your ass up and go |
Get a job but my job, got to be filling out applications it’s hard |
For a young black male, to stack male |
But do it legal, without the help of a crack sale |
That’s asking too much, cause my people having it rough |
That’s just your ghetto, everyday average stuff |
From California to Texas, people are restless and they starving |
Like predators after the prey, they gon come barging |
Just like the police, you might as well call us the Fed |
Because we running shit undercover, but making our bread |
I’m trying to make it, but the world want me to take it |
Sticky sticky I’m getting stuck, in a crazy situation |
Should I get a job a car and a wife, or chrome with cookies |
On the corner, this is my life |
I often wish it was easy, but the road so cold |
I make one and pay three, I gots to make two mo' |
And coming short don’t add up, niggas wanna agg' up |
Uncock the gun lil' nigga, put the mask up |
I ain’t killing no mo', I gots to find another way |
I got people locked down, ain’t seen the light of day |
I’m struggling right now, I still gots to get paid |
God please help me, men my wicked ways |
I’m trudging through the mud, trying to make it to the concrete |
But I’m sinking, can’t see my feet |
Thug Dirt guilty or acquitted, I’ma push it to the limit |
In the dark, hit the lights so I could finish, yeah |