I got it!We use cookies to customize content and advertising, to provide social media features, and to analyze traffic to our site. We also share information about your use of our site with our trusted social media, advertising and analytics partners. Read more.

Z-Ro feat. Trae Tha Truth Lyrics

/ 5
0 reviewers
Do you like this song?
(click stars to rate)

my lyricsbox
[Verse 1: Z-Ro]
My nigga Redd been assisting me with holdin' my head
But I can't focus cause so many niggas in the street owe me some bread
And if you fuckin' with my mind lately, how could it be greed?
If all I want is just to touch whatevers mine baby
My forty-acres, and my new mansion, and my yacht
Might take a little time for me to see bigger living plus or not
But I want stop until I'm touchin' my figures, you better move(bitch)
Cause I be bustin' my nigga nobody knows all the trouble I been through
Been so broke and embarrassed couldn't afford a tooth brush fool
If it wasn't for my nigga Sherman Miller, me and great 'O
Offered me food when I was hungry, plus a place to lay low
Runnin' up and down Houston slangin' dimes and nickles
Performing for my hood niggas spittin' rhymes and riddles
Forever stayin' on our grind because of the shine it give us
And fuck jail, we didn't care how much time they give us

[Chorus: x2]
Everyday it's like I can't maintain
But still I feel I'm in it for the same thing
All I ever wanted is just to get my change
Living strength is my only type of mind frame

[Verse 2: Z-Ro]
It's in my blood, it's in my body, it's in my soul
Gettin' paper been so important since I've been on my own
Don't nobody love me in this cold world
Fuck these bitches 'cause the hatred I got for my old girl
Is a motherfucker I ain't tryna' hear it, I ain't tryna' know ya
Unless you be a hustler tryna' come up on some mo' bucks
I'm like a male-nun with a rail gun
I'm so focused on my mail son I need a bail bond
Fuck you bitches, I love my riches go get it forward march
Cannibal in these killing fields tired of hangin' on this cross
Witness the J.Prince runnin' the south
Rap-A-Lot mafia like wide receivers cause we all be runnin' our route
I'm goin' long, it ain't no mercy for the weak better get strong
Cause it be crucializing everything that be goin' on try to maintain
Cause if you don't they pop you, drop you, and leave you slain mayne
Win it just to stay in the game (mayne)


[Verse 3: Z-Ro]
Association bring about stimulation that's what I witness
Kickin' it with the jealous got me beggin' for forgiveness
This record label presidential think they live like me
Think they could jump in this rap game and survive like me
They living fantasies nigga tryna hold onto my name
But they can't sell records without me that's a goddamn shame
Hoe nigga get ya roll up, every time I flex you cats in check
Cause you can't lift it with you're on muscle, weak bitch!
Every time I speak bitch niggas steadily be plottin'
On removing me from my throne to throw me in the fuckin' prison
But it's all good I can take it cause I dish shit out
But me you've seen I'm havin' things in my dreams I can't get it out
God blessed the child that can double his fetti
Duckin' and dodgin' trouble cops and trouble times come get me
I'm tryna get a big ass piece so leave me alone
And live a life where I can leave both of my pistols at home

[Chorus: Repeat Til End]
This song is from the album "Life Of Joseph W Mcvey".