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  2. Mo City Don (Freestyle)

Mo City Don (Freestyle) Lyrics



(*talking*)
Shit, Z-Ro the Crooked, I know y'all
Been waiting on this here, yeah shit
R.I.P. Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator
All the fallen soldiers man, Southside
Eastside, Westside, Northside, know I'm saying
All my partnas, all your dead partnas
But shit I still feel stress, still gotta get something
Off my chest, while these hoe niggaz be doing what
They be doing, I don't know though, shit f**k it
We gon stay two deep in a fo' do'

[Z-Ro]
Slow Loud And Bangin', all in my trunk
Trunk full of funk, I ain't never been a punk
I blow on skunk, I blow on doja
Military minded, I'm a motherf**king soldier
Out the streets, of the Ridgemont 4
Not no bitch, and say I still ain't a hoe
Letting niggaz know, everyday of the year
I pimp my pen, and I get my point clear
Why niggaz wanna talk down, I don't know
Gotta take a trip to Akapoko, from the 4
With my 4-4 on my side, when I ride
Ready to do another homicide, in a pine box
And I'm gone, nigga old glory
I'm H-Town to Cali, just like Robert Horry
If I do a murder, flee the murder scene
No missing shortage on the drank, I can't find no lean
From Southwest to Southfese, bitch it's about war not bout peace
Nigga like me, I'm bout knocking out teeth
Know I'm saying, I'll loose your grill
A nigga coming down, in the Coupe Deville
Looking gravy, looking real throwed
I'ma be the nigga, pulling over at the f**king cross road
With my K on my side, I'm ready to ride
And if I gotta go, it'll be a homicide
Me and another nigga, on the way to the Golden Gate
A nigga like me, can't wait
Just to make it, to another day
Gotta get the big pay off, so get the f**k out my way
When I come around your corner, so slow
It'll be the nigga, in the damn Polo
That's the Ralph Lauren, jackers ain't barring
Why I skipped the slab, and went straight to foreign
Said it like I said it, in the old school
Some niggaz they be red, but Z-Ro blue
I come around your corner, but I ain't set tripping
But I will, wet niggaz and wet women
With the calico, I had to let a motherf**ker know
That I come around your corner, in a Lincoln four do'
A fox photo, cause I do it in a flash
Nigga watch out, cause that could be your a*s
I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong
I flex ma bicep, then I swoll on
Get on, the motherf**king bench
And when the laws hit the corner, I hit the fence
They wonder where I went, they keep looking
I don't give a f**k, like Tyson I keep hooking
Or maybe like Lenox, I'm strong to the finish
I'm like the ghetto Popeye, but I don't wat spinach
I'ma keep going, I keep on flowing just like the Nile
Million dolla mouthpiece, everytime I smile
Look and load a, nigga ask Trae
Everytime he smile, he can turn the night to day
You can open up the pop, and let the smoke come out
We don't give a damn, bout a crooked a*s cop
Crooked officer, crooked officer
Make a nigga wanna blow the badge, off of ya
Me and Dougie, my motherf**king brother
R.I.P., to my motherf**king mother
That's the Dorothy Marie McVay Matthew
There's ten toes planted, in my motherf**king shoe
I gotta be a man, hope you understand
There's nothing but the work, and the calico in my hand
On a corner on the Ridgevan, and I'm serving a fiend
A real live B-Boy, and you know what I mean
I be stacking up chips, like Lego
Dunk on a punk, just like Calvin Kato
Houston to the Rocket, a four-peat like Comets
I don't give a f**k, good punch a bitch nigga make him vomit
On the grind, I'ma take a trip on Greyhound
I be flying on a plane, but the dope is on the ground
Headed to Lake Charles, or headed to Lafayette
Maybe off in Alexandria, but I ain't finished yet
I gotta make a hoe I-10, I sin
Then I, do it again
I get my ends, I'm in my motherf**king Benz-e
Got these hoes running round, in a friendse
I be busting full clips, till they empty
A piece of potent pus*y, might tempt me
they is trying to send me, to the Penitentiary
The main reason why, I ain't friendly
I'm wired up, but I ain't on no damn slaughter
Dejaun in the back, and he got the camcorder
Recording everything, the 4's gon swang
Still pulling up, on Fondren and the Main
Looking lovely, got to look good
I throw up Ridgemont 4, cause that's my hood
Never been a hoe, I'm letting hoes know
I gotta get a f**king P-L-A-T, but first a G-O
L-D, a motherf**king plack
I keep it straight and simple like that, hit a bitch from the back
And I use my, motherf**king tool
Make her say ouch, when I hit her with the mule



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