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Z-RO lyrics - Resurrected


Original and similar lyrics
[Hook - 2x] Maabin, in the streets, until we die No more dope selling or robbing We platinum and gold That to make them diamonds shine [Z-Ro] I bleed the block not with the rocks, I bleed with the candy paint Sipping promethazine codeine, with a jolly rancher with a danded drank Telling all foes, got my eyes closed and a fifth done got me numb On the cool feeling dumb but I'm still on no, come ready to watch you get done I'm thinking thoed about to unload, on anything that don't mind Trying to slap patches up out your hair, better say a prayer to somebody to find But you can't because you the demon, Frankincense got you on the run Forever living in fear your life, that's why your coward ass keep a gun You can run but I'm gon walk you down, where the fuck you think you gon go I got connect in every state, city and town, from here to Akapoko You choose to play put on your game face, it's bout to be a grudge match I guarantee if I bust first, there ain't gon be no busting back I shoot to kill I don't shoot to hurt, I wear the pants I don't wear the skirt Do you really must know to use a gun, and if so did you ever put in work Hell nah, y'all niggaz be gangbanging out of the garage faking it Dodging shots everyday from real niggaz, y'all barely making it [Hook - 2x] [Dougie D] Finally ain't no mo' jacking and robbing, or selling dope out on the corners We can live how we wanna live, and blow big marijuana Maabin' till I die, all of the streets bitch can you feel me Yeah I'ma do the damn thang, trunk knocking hole can you hear me I'm a Southside G, steady flipping and flossing the L-T-B D-O to the U to the G-I-E, nothing but a G baby that's all that I can be I can only be me, if it ain't platinum it must be gold, dollas gon shine Twinkle and glow, so shit we must expose Chopping the game up on you hoes, that is the way for toll And I'ma keep shining and grinding, always on you hoes Motherfuckers be loving how cool I be, boy don't get it twisted Cause a nigga won't hesitate to pull the infrared beam out his ?pentos scene? This is on all my G's, we gon continue to mash Stacking our cash forever, because we [Hook - 2x] [Trae] Still in to win I'ma hold it down, I got a AK that'll make em move around Like a track star ducking low, hopping high rolling on the flo' You bumping gums steady talking down, on nigga what you know about us And what you know about the 17 shot, cocked back that I'm fin to bust I'm a Southsider screen shiner, with a remote in the seat recliner Blue over gray in a Pathfinder, tinted up on the block grinder Block bleeder, trunk waver, DVD and a PC playa Pimping the pin and a mic breaker, cross skater hollin' at you later Slab shaking out the renegader, body rocking on the equator Like Al Kapone I'm living thoed, in a dream home with a elevator Guerilla nigga fin to come and get you, take you out the picture like a X friend For the divedends you fucked up, cause Guerilla Maab clicked up again Like the Wu-Tang, you better respect our name we all real And if you wasn't killed on another page, we still be wrecking your grill Feel that and get back, on my block we kill the chit-chat Doing out thang then go to sit back, I know they toll y'all we could do that [Hook - 2x]

Roll With 'Em

JUVENILE "Solja Rags"
Juvenile: It's enemy turf that I'm on, so I'ma play it how it go Cock the hollow points into my black calico Hit the coat with some of grams of that dope fo' sho' it's bout to go Niggaz graduated from sellin' dope to snortin' dope Gangsta be bustin' heads Lil Reggie be bustin' heads K.C., he be bustin' heads Think I ain't 'bout nustin' heads Boddies bled, I'll put infrared up in your Cutlass You play with 226, that's my clique so I say fuck it Ruckus, war deep, World War III in the mix 5 Hot Boy$ runnin', bringin' G's to they clique With them hundred round tip-tips, to make sure niggaz ain't breathin' You recievin', a punishment for not believin' Curly head lookin' for me, cause I'm hot and word don' got loose Bundles of dope fronted, from the Magnolia to the Goose Snitches wanted to testify the shit that they know Set a bomb on the front door, put a key in the door and the place blow Look I been walkin' way mo', with a coat full of yeh-yo Nothin' but clientele, from 11-5, sale You don't think it's legal, nigga we can take it to the scale You gon' double your money, gon' get credit make your bail Chorus: Juvenile (4x) With that iron, I'ma roll wit' 'em, momma don't pray for me I don't back down frome no nigga, they got a place for me Juvenile: My biological father, was a sperm donor, around the corner Was the man that killed lil Lanny, who knew we'd understand it That way that, my mother was heartless to her kids So he took us in his home, and he raised like his own Now we grown, and we learned responsibility, The devil tryed to get wit me To affect all of my dickin' inability But it's gon' be some shit, when a collision is occurin' Asurin', of me bein' a factor, through '97 and after And I'ma have to, get my ten percent Or I'ma get punished, like the rest of these niggaz and there's evidence 'Cause ever since all these cars and all these mansions, and all these luxuries was givin' You wasn't givin' no thanks, to the reason you was livin' So I'ma keep an open mind and make the right decision And ain't tell you niggaz shit, and put my self in a position That's unescapable, 'cause you capable, of puttin' my life in danger And it's causin' confusion, confusion draw conclusion And shootin' up some niggaz that pose a threat Until somebody warns you that you're close to death Chorus: Juvenile (4x) Mannie Fresh: Don't love ya, don't need ya, so why the fuck would I feed ya You bitches want my riches, delete ya Cause it's movin', it's shakin' number one spot takin' Rap shite tight and money we be makin' Clock six figures, with brown beats and triggers Drinkin' from the riggers, poppa said the gon' fig us Everything I make, and everything I drive Everything I scratch and everything I ride Touch it, , live for it, you niggaz kill for it The new Juve tape, got you hoes loosin' weight Can't get your life straight, music to masturbate Juvenile: Test a, nigga like me boy and you better Have on your bulletproof sweater, ridin' in an armored Jetta Beware of these, thugs in E's Everytime you breathe you recievin' a part of me Look, my lyrics be combustable like gases When I'm grabbin' for the mic and performin' for your masses I'm never found on the ship that's steady sinkin' Total control and all about self my way of thinkin' Bankin', off top, runnin' with them boys from the block Totin' glocks that we only use when we put on the spot Now I got, a reason to live for than to die Keepin' a tight inventory on my supply, of gettin' high Know when to stop, don't wanna be it, can't even see it Not even them little niggaz that I be wit' Chorus: Juvenile (10x) I'm gettin' tired, of this bulshit that we hearin' I'm gettin' tired, 'bout to get my iron ready to ride Ready to ride Ready to ride Ready to ride, lil wodie Momma don't pray for me, I don't back down frome no nigga Momma don't pray for me, I don't back down frome no nigga Momma don't pray for me, I don't back down frome no nigga

Wrong Ones

BIG PUNISHER "Yeeeah Baby"
(feat. SunKiss) [SunKiss] Yeah.. no more runnin Hahah.. Yeah no more America's Most and all that shit there Rockin the mic now Runnin with my nigga Pun Boogie baby Lot of niggaz fronted Said they gonna put me on, help me and shit like that there But you kept it golden with me my nigga That's right, you fuckers Dead, and still killin shit! [Chorus: SunKiss + Big Pun] I'm the wrong one to fuck with Fuck with me and you'll get stuck quick, fuck you suck dick, hah You ain't got no wins in mi casa Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa I'm the wrong one to fuck with Drivebys in the truck quick, fuck you suck dick, hah You ain't got no wins in mi casa Que te pasa, hah ha.. [SunKiss] I'm as wicked as Hitler first born Cause of me, lot of old ladies purse gone 'Kill Niggaz Softly' but not with her song Matter of fact I kill em viciously, brutally Strip them clowns down to nudity Shove the chrome where they doodoo be It's a stick up, don't try to get brave Don't even chance it Duke I want y'all motherfuckers strippin like you dance for Luke Don't stop, give it give it - or you gon' get it get it Get your fuckin Yankee fitted splitted when I spit it spit it Y'all faggot rappers funny as Saturday Night Live Creep through in a white 5 and snipe five Y'all got some trife wives Show me where y'all re' at, where the ki' at Sleep eat shit and pee at, park your 3 at Spark like Vietnam, tell your mom through the intercom, 'UPS ma'am sign here,' send a bomb Leave that bitch - roasted and toasted like a chestnut And if I run out of milk, for cereals, I leave her breasts cut Got this pitbull and I feed him fresh guts - sick em Cujo! Steal your bitch and dick the culo Slam yo' ass and I don't know a lick of judo Fly to P.R. - stick Menudo Come back, cop a 6 with two-do' Cop a brick from you know who, Julio Crew from Washington Heights in jail I had niggaz washin my Nike's Now I'm squashin the mic, extortionist type Harsh with a knife I'm flossin yo' ice on some Bronx shit tonight [Chorus] [Big Punisher] Cannibalism is livin in my metabolism Givin em spasms and aneurisms at baby baptisms That's all my thugs thinkin bout, drinkin your blood Boriquans love flooded rugs bloody and bloated mugs Leavin the reverand decap' and severn when I'm beheadin The Armageddeon is lettin demons slip into Heaven Goin back to spiritual ritual times What you gon' find - shiftings of Satan in critical bind Nevermind, I do that often, I've risen often Bust out my coffin, I'm a livin abortion Battled the Devil and deaded his demons Trained other beings to be in his different levels of Hell, still screamin Seein bodies bloody and babies bloated corroded Know the Chinese exploded Know they run with Gotti who know it (check it) I never run I never ran, the fattest motherfuckin man I roll with Cuban makin junk to jams That's all I'm knowin and I'm never kneed All on your soul I feed, I'm lettin punk motherfuckers bleed Fuckin with me, better hide yo' seed Better think twice, before you ride on me Cause I'ma lift your weight, then I'm droppin you in the incinerator Then I'm hittin the hospital and poppin two in the incubator That's how we do it pana, hardcore, no more goo-goo ga-ga Oh I'm sorry pa-pa, was you the da-da [Chorus 2X]

Up Next/Insane As Frankie Da Screwdriver (Outro)

J-DAWG "Smokin' & Rollin'"
[Bridge:] Gang bangin', dope slangin', guns ringin' everywhere Money makin', man no fakin', givin' up a bottle cap [First (and only) verse] I'm bout as real as they come, nigga we started this first I told your Mom "I know it hurts to see your son in that church" And they continue to search, lookin' for the killa too sweet He got the laws out on the street while they mobbin' hoes on the beat Have a pete, these hoes is great, eatin' steak under the plate Believe they handlin' weight Suckin' dick and feedin' ya grapes They got some loot of they own Pushin' balls of heroin 17 shots to the dome Oh yeah, they packin' that chrome Now they freakin' this nigga Wanted for killin' and dope dealin' How did you figure You'd ever get away nigga? Now they kickin' in doors And knockin', fallin' on floors Them coppers packin' four fours Your life ain't no longer yours Have 'em beggin' to stop They pop a nigga off top This nigga poppin' a cop Straight puttin' it down for his block Them hoes ain't lettin' SHIT slide Bangin' like Bonnie & Clyde Left way too many smokin' Straight leavin' foreheads open LIL' FRANKIE I got that eagle, bangin' 'em like it's legal Them hoes done put me down, now I'm goin' to meet them people

Hippa To Da Hoppa

OL' DIRTY BASTARD "The Return To The 36 Chambers"
My beats are slammin... [Verse One:] My beats are slammin from the rugged programming My man Bob Marley hey my man I'm Jammin You could never touch the stamina, while I'm rammin the Hip-hop crowd makes me rrrah rrrah rrrah Other MC's got flipped with the ease Beggin me for burnt cigar, stop the music please No, cause I'm a PRO, rap to the conVO Make a crowd say HOE, at a strip SHOW Represent, my name is Ason, keep calm Rhyme's too smoky, funky like a stink bomb Boom! Blowin up niggaz better than pullin the trigger So you betta run for covah! Niggaz better loosen they ass, felt the glass A forty ounce bottle, yo yo yo yo money yo pass! Woooh-woooh-woooh! I sweat it live MC gonna live God? No, the nigga die The max-imum of MC's are populating The min-imum of those MC's are dominating Now all and together now, to what what who? Rhymes come stinky like a girl's poo-poo [Chorus:] Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa [2x] [Verse Two:] Ahh shit, here I go once again Rhymes get shitty from the time that I spend I come old like toe fungus mold Ask my grand-pop pop duke gave my soul Then I came with that old Al Green shit Saaa-die, taught me the ballisitc I get you blurry in your eye with a high note Down, to the Brownsville, oops you got smoked The shit I'm droppin is stinkin up your area When I shoot it through like a messanger carrier I keep my breath smellin like shit so I can get FUNKY, baby I'm not havin it [Chorus 2X] Help master! [battle ensues] Dragon-fist! Horse-fist! Bastard, I didn't know who you were

Real Muthaphukkin G's

EAZY-E "It's On (Dr. Dre) 187um Killa"
Intro come john Comp ton Comp ton Real muthaphuckkin G's... Real muthaphuckkin G's... Real Muthaphuckkin G's... Verse One Hey Yo doctor here's another proper crack and it's phat watch the sniper time to pay the piper and let that real shit provoke so you's a wanna be 'loc and you'll get smoked and i hope that yer fans understand when ya talk about playin me the same records that ya makin' is payin me Motherfuck Dre Motherfuck Snoop Motherfuck Death Row Yo, and here comes me left blow 'cuz i'm the E-A-Z-Y-E, and this is the season to let the Real motherfuckin G's in, ya like a kid ya found a pup and now yer dapper, but tell me where the fuck ya found ya found an anorexic rapper talkin 'bout who ya go squabble with and who ya shoot you're only 60 pounds when yer wet and wearin boots damn E, they tried to fade you on Dre Day But Dre Day only met Eazy's pay day all of a sudden Dr Dre is a G thang, but on his old album cover he was a she thang so Nigga please, Nigga please don't step to deez motherfuckin' Real G's Yo Dre, what's up? *bang* Yo Dre, what's up? *bang* Now take it to the rapper, claimin to be dapper then the Dresta, smoother then a bitch but Dre's a rollin gangster, ain't broke a law in yer life, yet every time you rap you yap about the guns and knifes, just take a good look and the Nigga, and you'll capture the fact, that the bastard is simply just an actor, who mastered the bang and the slang and the Mental, of Niggaz in Compton, wattz, and South Central never ever once have you ran with the turf, yet in every verse you claim you used to do the dirt, but tell me who's a witness to your fuckin work, so ya never had no buiness, so save the drama jerk, Niggaz straight kill me knowin that they pranksters, this is going out to you studio gangsters,see i did dirt, i did work, so many Niggaz can vouch that, so since i got stripes i got the right to rap about that, but Niggaz like you i gotta hate ya, i'm tired of Suburbian Niggaz talkin about they comin from projects knowin ya ain't seen the parts of the streets G think ya tryin bang around the time of the peace treaty wearin khackis and ya mob while ya ryhme, little fag tried to sag, but he's gettin flooded at the same time, and ya set don't accecpt ya, so ya scared to kick it with yer homies 'cuz ya know they don't respect ya, So Nigga please check nuts before ya step to deez, motherfuckin Real G's Verse Three Well, it the Knocc Out, definition orginal baby gangster approach me like you hard, motherfucker i'mma bank ya shank ya, with my fuckin shank, if i havta Dr Dre an Snoop Dogy Dogg are fuckin actors pranksters, studio gangsters, busters but this time yer dealin with some real motherfuckers G's, Nigga please, don't try to step because if ya do, and i pill cap is all that would be left see, young Niggaz like me, will break ya off somthin, claimin my city, but Dre you ain't from Compton Niggaz like ya'll is what i call Wanna be's it aint shit compared to Real Motherfuckin' G's funky is this track... Yo Dre, What's up? *bang* Yo Dre, what's up? *bang* I never met an OG who never did shit wrong ya tried to dis the Eazy-E so now Nigga it's on you and ya Doggy Dogg, think yer all honk and shit both of you bitches, can come and suck my Doggy's dick beatin a bitch don't make ya shit, but then agian some Niggaz think it makes a man, Damn it's a trip how a Nigga could switch so quick from wearin lipstick to smokin on Chronic at picnics, and now ya think yer bigger but to me you ain't nothin but a bitch ass Nigga who ain't worth a food stamp, but at Deat Row, i hear yer gettin treated like Boot camp gotta follow yer seargents directions, or get yer ass pumped with a Smith and Wesson, learn a lesson from the E Stay in your place and don't step to Real motherfuckin G's Yo Dre, What's up? *bang* boy ya should have known by now.. Yo Dre (what's up?) *Bang* Boy ya should have known by now... Yo Dre (what's up?) *bang* Boy ya should have known by now, Eazy duz it....

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