[21 second instrumental to open]


[Z-Ro]

If somebody got a problem with me, come and address it

If the shoe fits it then walk in it I'm talkin to Texas

See I'm from a section where we kid each other for practice

So I keep grenades and a chopper right under my mattress

Please don't let the gold and the diamonds fool you

I promise it's nothin for your family to lose you

It's just when you speak to me watch ya tone, call the chief on the phone

Bring the beef to your home, make you sleep under some stones

Z-Ro the Crooked, but you faggots already know my name mayne

Know you'd love to catch me slippin in the turnin lane mayne

Fuck a rap tuck my strap right in back of my britches

I'm just rappin to pay my lawyer for creatin a witness

I done smoked somebody befo' and smokin's a bad habit

They say it always take you to your casket, but fuck death

Cause I ain't scared, bitch I'm ready to fly

But until I go I'ma murk niggaz and get my fetti right now


[Chorus 2X: Z-Ro]

I'm a soldier, these stankers keep me reachin for my holster

Sometime I feel my death is creepin closer

But I'ma keep on thuggin like I'm 'posed ta, 'posed ta


[Z-Ro]

Look at the conditions I was livin in, I didn't have a clear vision then

I needed ends cause there was no residence for me to sleep in

Nigga the streets raised me, man they played me sometime

But a real nigga regroup relax and take this back on his grind

I was gifted with a sick grip game, and it stick to the spoon

Plus I'm gifted at spittin make my vocals click to a tune

Bitch I'm schizophrenic, I probably won't stick to this mood

Hope I don't lose it 'fore I have to bring this brick to this dude

I heard some niggaz got somethin to say 'bout me back in the hood

Can't be Mo City, cause everyday I'll be back in the hood

And we can scrap or we can take it to the straps in the hood

You get your stuff or be murdered and won't be back in the hood

Same way I stack the republic I'm just like that in the hood

Bring to you a hat in public or a hat in the hood

Niggaz say Rap-A-Lot ain't payin me like I ain't got nuttin

If six figures is bein bent over, I'm lovin the fuckin


[Chorus]


[Z-Ro]

All you niggaz that talk down, just might get walked down

Become another statistic and down these war grounds

Nigga pull up your hands, just look at each other

But guaranteed to beat up a bitch he gon' wanna make me suffer

So I shoot first, look at his head burst, bleedin

And exit to dig a ditch that's even, give me the reason

Promise I've been lookin to get some stress off

I let the muh'fuckin mac-11 hack everything under the neck off

Used to be a problem child now I'm a problem grown up

I done done some evil shit and one day I'ma have to own up

But when I say somethin homey I mean what I say

I'ma murder you straight up or I can lean when I spray

Z-Ro the "fuck everybody" nigga from Screwed Up Click

Now I ain't gon' let you bend over to tie your shoes up bitch

I'ma launch a Bernard Hopkins type of blow in your jaw

That's the way I police my perimeter, Ro is the law


[Chorus]