[Z-Ro]

I pledge allegiance, to getting my cash on

Either ligalo with a glock, and my mask on

I gotta go get it, cause I got an appetite

Down to run up in your residence, and blast on sight

It's for the paper it's for the bread, it's for the feddy

Seventeen stash spots, between the Dodge and the Chevy

Fuck the whole wide world, it's just me and my songs

Constantly moving on, to find a better place to call home

Keep running, but always look where you going

Whether it's sunny or snowing, them people'll kick your do' in

They keep coming, I had to gather up my rocks

And relocate blocks, and set up my shop away from the cops

Cause I'm a hustler, slash all that

With plenty Christian in the background, for fall backs

That mean I got a plan, B-C and D-E-F-G excetera

Z-Ro running game, two thousand two steps ahead of you


[Hook]

Keep running

Keep on running


[Mr. Drastic]

I'm on a whole nother level, now I'm running for the devil

When I finally get the shovel, I'ma bury him mayn

Bringing true to the game, so I'm putting God first

No burden I can't handle, I done been through the worst

Now it's time for the better, me and Ro getting setter

Drop the top in rainy weather, and I'm loving it mayn

From the cradle to the grave, no more being a slave

When you see me best believe me, I be off of the chain

Gripping the grain doing the thang, with Gene and Day

Screaming my name, before I go on I make em pay

Business first, making sure my money is straight

I'm loving the hate, because it's keeping food on the plate

It's later and Ro, yeah you know we running the show

Getting the do', rapper slash CEO

Wherever I go, I always be the number one stunning

So you better keep on running


[Hook - 2x]


[O-N-E]

Everyday is a struggle, so I gotta get up and get it

I'm dodging the federalies, trying to stack my mill ticket

It's wicked up in these streets, if you don't work you don't eat

That's why my eyes are wide open, never falling asleep

I roll O-N-E deep, cause I don't need no niggas

They hold you down everytime, when you trying to stack figgas

I'm clutching chrome plated triggas, that's keeping these bitches running

Faster than Forest Gump, that twist and turn when they coming

I been a hustler for a hustler, was even thinking of hustling

And sold every kinda drug, and that's the end of discussion

I'm not trusting nan nigga, nan bitch or friend

Because they all turn fraud, in the god damn end

I'm dropping rhymes and wreckes, and my sixteens is cold

No baking soda it's over, I'm mixing O-N-E do'

When it's finally wrapped in plastic, then shipped to the stores

We'll be them seven figga niggas, O-N-E and Z-Ro


[Hook - 4x]