Tekst:
Z Ro And 2 My G S

streets And keep your heater, under your seat when you creep [Hook - 4x] And to my G's Don't worry bout a damn thang [Z-Ro] You use to call me G.I.,

streets And keep your heater, under your seat when you creep [Hook - 4x] And to my G's Don't worry bout a damn thang [Z-Ro] You use to call me G.I.,

wanna hear is a beat and that's it Long as they can go to the club and get blitz Pick up some chicks and get some digits And the DJ's playing them hits

, not mine. I gotta gun and ima cock mine. Hatas, gimmie 50, drop down. My nigga C-Mo. And that boy Mike-Mo down wit Z-ro. And that Millzey, its goin

's Ke' and 'Ro and fa' sho that's a gangsta hit Get up out our life, hoe Get up off our dick, Trick! [Chorus: Z- Ro] Time to let the truth be tooooold

[Z-Ro] Back in 1994, I use to hustle all the time Instead of a woman, Ro had making money on his mind Now it's 2000 and 3, and ain't a thang changed

Z-Ro] I thought I had a lot of partnas, but I've only got some Since I can't depend on my niggaz, I put my faith up in my shotgun Rolling around in my

some fresh hard for you out of town peakers We got 3rd Ward, 4th Ward, and Southside G's Plus Southwest and Bloody Nickels rollin 83's It's Houston

to studewood, it's all good I'm riding on platinum grey, with z-ro and trae Gon let the top down, it's a beautiful day Haters jealous on the sidelines