25 Lighters - Z-Ro

Screwed Up Click soldier for life

You know what I’m talking about?

Mo' City, stand up in this motherfucker

You know what I’m saying?

My nigga Grady in this bitch, what’s up my nigga?

Huh, inside out, that boy Harv done touch ground

Hold up man, you know what I’m saying?

Ridgemont four for life

Ridgevan riders nigga Ridgemont hard heads

Huh, y’all feel me man, rest in peace to that nigga Jody

That nigga LL man, you know what I’m saying?

Shit man it’s fucked up man

Rest in peace to to that nigga E-mo

We gon' hold it down, you know what I’m talking about?

And that’s real talk

25 Lighters on my dresser, yes sir

Got a bad black bitch that drives a black Impreza

You know I’m smokin' on that herb

Every damn day just to calm my damn nerves

Screwed Up Click ain’t never gon' switch

Nigga build a ditch for a motherfuckin snitch

Talkin' to the laws given up info

Catch me at the pad black lacquer smokin' indo

Sipping on drank on a whole liter

This for nigga Moe I got a 9 millimeter

And a .45 I’m a keep it live

In '08 like I did in '95

That was the year I made it clear

Wreckin' on the microphone to get away from here

I’m reppin' for the south with diamonds in my mouth

And diamonds on my hands and diamonds in my house

Shinin' so bright even in the night

Smoking on kush, what the fuck is top flight?

I’m only on the good, bitch I wish you would

Keeping it all world y’all keepin' it all hood

Trying to get paper pull another caper

Man my house is suave something like Tony Draper

Got to get my mill from my record sell

This time last year I was in a jail cell

Waitin' for commissary waitin' on mail call

Man I can’t wait 'til I get free cause I’m a ball

Put it in they face free my partner Grace

What’s up to that Los what’s crackin' cause I’m straight lace

What’s up to that Pokey

What’s up to that Woodey

Always kept it real never act like they ain’t know me

Showed ya boy love Z-Ro is who I am

Back in the days I signed with that x fam

Me in that phat and that Street Military

R I P Maleak in the day in the cemetery

But it ain’t over chip on my shoulder

Catch me brand new candy blue Range Rover

Rollin' to the end my skin is my sin

And like Lil' Keke say it never will ever end

Gots to keep flowin' I’m a keep it goin'

Back in '92 I probably did kick your door in

Nigga lay it down, lay it down, you hoes lay it down

I reppin' for the South Side of that H-Town

Screwed Up Click until it’s over with

AK with catch bag on my shoulder bitch

You will die fuckin' with that Ro

He ain’t never been a bitch he ain’t never been no ho

Don’t know how to be a broad don’t know how to be a mark

I put the bubbles on 'cause it just turned dark

Mashin' on the gas pocket full of cash

Lookin' for a yellow bone bitch with big ass

I ain’t disrespectin' just telling the truth

Y’all know how I do it when I gets up in the booth

I’m a go hard 'til I chip my fuckin' tooth

In the Flying Spur, the four door, or the coupe

Yeah I get my paper yeah I get my bread

I don’t give a damn what you bitch niggas done said

Talkin' down on me cause I’m a get my spread

I ain’t trippin' I’m in the kitchen whippin' up a batch

Batch of them pies for all the time guys

Watchin' out for the FED’s they be in disguise

Looking like G’s looking like ballers

Looking like true money makin' shot callers

But them boys laws yeah that’s them folks

I ain’t trippin' cause I know it’s hot on Post Oak

Back in the day I had a pocket full of rocks

24/7 365 around the clock

About to get paid stackin' up my paper

I hit a lick and then it’s time for me to lay low

In front of my screen on 360 playing Halo

Hoes’ll drop it like it’s hot when ever I say so

'Cause I’m the man diamond on my hand

Got big bass in the back of the blue van

It’s blue over gold the story’s being told

Benjamin Franklin Andrew Jackson in by billfold

My flow is real cold I ain’t never been whack

And thanks to Bun B and Pimp C I got two gold plaques

They hangin' on my wall, Pimp I miss you dog

Bun B ride for that boy and make me proud

Do it for the south and do it for the Hawk

And who ever don’t like it get my dick up in they mouth

I’m Screwed Up Click 'til they lay me in my casket

I ride around Houston with that plastic

Hand on my steel, wood grain wheel

You can buy a Denali with the diamond on my grill

You can buy an apartment with the diamonds on my wrist

And can’t nobody do it like me cause I do it like this

Ain’t never had love for a bitch

All I’m really tryin' to do is get rich

Trying to get my fuckin' bread baby

Ride in Mercedes I know a nigga hate me

But I don’t give a damn nah I don’t give a fuck

I’m ridin' on draped up 26's on my truck

Hell yeah bitch I know they large

Got three foreign cars in my garage

I never sabotage my fuckin' career

Had to make it clear and I shed another tear

But nigga I’m real bumper and the grill

When I do my music it’s the music you can feel

'Cause I’m just a G, ridin' one deep

And every time I ride I ride with gun on seat

Watchin' out for jackers 'cause I know they scopin'

Tryin' to leave a real niggas head wide open

Pullin' down swangers 'cause they ain’t clackin'

I’m rollin' on 20 inch 4's bitch what happenin'

Lookin' so fly I don’t smoke fry

Got to be a G 'til the day that I die

That’s my big homey boy that Lil' Ke

Boy you know I love you man it’s you and me

In this damn thing we gon' do it for the Screw

And do it for the South and I’m a do it for you

And you gon' do it for me it’s S.U.C

Screwed Up Click until I D I E

Nigga don’t get me crunk watch me pop trunk

Smoking on kush ain’t never seen skunk

Man I’m so throwed caught me in the zone

I don’t give a fuck about you callin' on my phone

I fucks with the stripper, Versace on my zipper

This the nigga Ro I’m taper fade with the clipper

I brought my partner for my partner Paul

About to make a million dollars and buy the whole mall

Call that bitch Ro' Town and it’s gon' go down

A couple of days from now I got a show in your town

And I’m gon' get paid and I’m gon' get laid

And every car I drive, candy paint gon' get sprayed

On the doors nigga and on the side dog

And I ain’t scared I got Jesus on my side dog

Hit the church house and then go work out

And after that you it’s time to pull the purp out

And I’m a roll one then I’m a smoke one

Then I’m a roll one then I’m a smoke one

Then I’m a roll one then I’m a smoke one

Now I’m out of my mind that’s what that smoke done

But I’m a maintain still in the same game

But only thing ain’t makin' the same change

I’m gettin' paid boy you better believe that

A Grammy on my shelf I’m gon' achieve that

'Cause I can do it nigga even though y’all say I can’t

But I don’t give a fuck about y’all I’m about my bank

I hope you feel that bitch look at you

If I peel your wig back nobody would be missin' you

You a ho nigga not a role nigga

'Cause Z-Ro make more dough nigga

More verses, more mixtapes, more shows nigga

And I ain’t ever at home I’m on the road nigga

I’m chasing fedi baby y’all ain’t ready baby

Yeah I’m heavy like a motherfuckin' Chevy baby

Or like a Ford I’m built Ford tough

Blowin' on that real real purple purple stuff

Talking about that kush got it from the bando

Watch me come down with my pistol in my hand ho

Don’t run up on me if you don’t want to get shot

I’m a grab my remote and give it all that it got

Hold up man hold up

Bring that bitch back