Z-Ro - Nigga From the Hood Lyrics

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Song Title:	Nigga From the Hood
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[Chorus]

Too many niggas, trying to take me off of my game

Just a nigga from the hood, that's looks some good

Now they all want to to jock my fame

When I coming down in my ?born?

And I'm rolling one deep that should tell you about me

I don't give a damn about none of you hoes

I blast on sight cause I ain't tripping no more

[Z-Ro]

You can't knock my hustle, ain't no games gone be played

Even haters a hundred miles away, deuce out they shades

Coming down one deep, I ain't gone stop and try to speak

I keep on rolling mean mugging as I pull on a sweet

I gave a cool package of sellers, because I knocked down yellas

Keep a 4 for myself and a 4-4 for the jealous

Cause them boys be scoping, intoxicated and hoping

That they run up on Z-Ro I leave they flesh wide open

Let them take me for what, cause I be damned if I slip

Beretta beam in the club same thang on my hip

Another case like that, if you don't think I bring that

Run on up and I'ma bust and flip your brain like crack

[Chorus]

[Z-Ro]

Nothing but dollars we clock, show after show we gone rock

Pimpin hoes in the five double o and baby mamas gone jock

What the fuck is the deal, somebody pass me the kill

Rubatussin and marijuana, one time and I peal

Don't let a snitch see my dope, cause the snitches gone squeel

If they play with my freedom, you know a coffin gone feel

Niggas be working with louds, I'm gone work on they jaws

Putting snitches in ditches cause I know they be talking bout

Every move that I make, that's why I be solo when I bake

Cooking up in the kitchen come up with a ounce with no flakes

Cause when I say get back, before my finger start itching

Better believe when I relieve my stress you might come up missing

I don't be kissing no ass, take a hit and dump the ash

I'ma chop on 20's with sparkling oak on my dash

I'm too low to descirbe, out the Screwed Up tribe

Read about it in the Source, Murda Dog and the Vibe

[Chorus]

[Z-Ro]

Remember back in 94 they use to laugh at me baby

Now it's year two triple o broads be after me baby

Can you recall when I was sparkling now I hide behind 10

Cause being in a drop with a escallade I know you want to know where I went

I got a bitch named Lucy, for me she sell her coochie

Finest in the vagina for lunch when I feel like sushi

See it to the day we fall, we ball out of control

Everyday at my low key location hoes fall out of they clothes

Range Rovers and Hummers, 45 glock gunner

Plus I'm a pen pimping veteran, smelling plex among new comers

How you love a platinum plack it means I'm already gold

It ain't no joke I'm in the scope, five hundred thousand already sold

I'm throwed off in the mind, mic and producer and booms no ?reap? in the wine

Smoke to relax my mind, radio songs go lemon lime

Fuck a neuse a niggas might go thet there to the po po why pop it

Giving out my phone number on the daily cause it won't hurt my pocket

[Chorus]

[Z-Ro: outro]

Man, what's the god damn deal, Southside, Northside, Eastside, Westside

It's your boy Z-Ro, knocking down the door in year two triple o

S.U.C. for life, screw you, it's for you baby

Heavy Weighters, my nigga Toon, R-O, Big M-O-E

Z to the Ro, Geurilla Maab affilliated, know what I'm saying

Putting it down, new millenium it's ours, get that baby

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