| 作曲 : Z Ro | |
| Keeping crack out my pocket, a pistol but I don't cock it | |
| All I wanna do is get paid, but the legal way | |
| I use to be selling drugs, running up and down the boulevard | |
| Better respect, whatever the desert eagle say | |
| 5-2 due for Z-Ro, with a mad super ego | |
| Couldn't nobody, tell a nigga nothing about life | |
| Till I started tripping too hard, smoking them sherms in the dark | |
| And was a witness to my people, being shot twice | |
| I had to get my mind right, stop gripping that iron tight | |
| Everybody, ain't out to get a nigga for bread | |
| But I promise it wasn't nothing, but niggaz be gum bumping | |
| My pistol'll come jumping, nothing but infrared | |
| 32 grams up, and this killer could be a veteran not a rookie | |
| Z-Ro is that nigga, that'll see thoed 'fore it's over with | |
| Dealing with haters and perpetrators, trying to fade us | |
| But I'm cooking up something major, wait till they get a load of it | |
| [Hook:] | |
| Struggling, to change | |
| Trying to find, an exit out of the game | |
| Looking for a better way, to make change | |
| Daily decisions, bout to make a brother break mayn | |
| All I ever did, was wanna shine | |
| Make enough money, just so I could support mine | |
| All the days of my life, I been on my grind | |
| Laws trying to lock me down, for a lifetime | |
| [Z-Ro:] | |
| We use to be pimping broads, Mo City to Clinton Park | |
| They tell us we went too hard, trying to make us a million | |
| But look what we living in, gotta get us some dividends | |
| Rolling over ridiculous niggaz, that be screaming out many men | |
| Wishing death on you, when they pull or take on you | |
| Tell me, what you gon do now | |
| I'm really trying to change, don't make me get up and get that thang mayn | |
| Close range, I will blow you down | |
| Everyday, I'm banging Screw | |
| Your slab just ain't no slab, if Robert Davis ain't in it | |
| Everyday, I'm banging Screw | |
| Your slab just ain't no slab, if Robert Davis ain't in it-in it-in it | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Point Blank:] | |
| Listen it's hard to think, when your mind goes blank | |
| Leaning on these cake ass niggaz, like a pint | |
| I write what I feel, and I feel what I write | |
| Fuck if a nigga don't like it, and bitch wanna fight | |
| The struggle ingrade in my skin, by the tip of a dull knife | |
| One verse from Jay-Z, got me doing a hard knock life | |
| Listen I try to stay focused, sometime my vision get blurry | |
| And distracted, why all these people keep on fucking with me | |
| I move swiftly through the vultures, rats and roaches | |
| Playing chess, with these toy soldiers | |
| But you can't complain, when you carrying the whole world on your shoulders | |
| Cause people depending on you, niggaz gotta eat | |
| Now how you gon look, big pimping and big living | |
| And all the click that run with you, sleeping on the streets | |
| I do the best I can, I bust my ass | |
| If the next man can't do the same, I wash my hands I'm struggling to change | |
| [Hook] | |
| zuo qu : Z Ro | |
| Keeping crack out my pocket, a pistol but I don' t cock it | |
| All I wanna do is get paid, but the legal way | |
| I use to be selling drugs, running up and down the boulevard | |
| Better respect, whatever the desert eagle say | |
| 52 due for ZRo, with a mad super ego | |
| Couldn' t nobody, tell a nigga nothing about life | |
| Till I started tripping too hard, smoking them sherms in the dark | |
| And was a witness to my people, being shot twice | |
| I had to get my mind right, stop gripping that iron tight | |
| Everybody, ain' t out to get a nigga for bread | |
| But I promise it wasn' t nothing, but niggaz be gum bumping | |
| My pistol' ll come jumping, nothing but infrared | |
| 32 grams up, and this killer could be a veteran not a rookie | |
| ZRo is that nigga, that' ll see thoed ' fore it' s over with | |
| Dealing with haters and perpetrators, trying to fade us | |
| But I' m cooking up something major, wait till they get a load of it | |
| Hook: | |
| Struggling, to change | |
| Trying to find, an exit out of the game | |
| Looking for a better way, to make change | |
| Daily decisions, bout to make a brother break mayn | |
| All I ever did, was wanna shine | |
| Make enough money, just so I could support mine | |
| All the days of my life, I been on my grind | |
| Laws trying to lock me down, for a lifetime | |
| ZRo: | |
| We use to be pimping broads, Mo City to Clinton Park | |
| They tell us we went too hard, trying to make us a million | |
| But look what we living in, gotta get us some dividends | |
| Rolling over ridiculous niggaz, that be screaming out many men | |
| Wishing death on you, when they pull or take on you | |
| Tell me, what you gon do now | |
| I' m really trying to change, don' t make me get up and get that thang mayn | |
| Close range, I will blow you down | |
| Everyday, I' m banging Screw | |
| Your slab just ain' t no slab, if Robert Davis ain' t in it | |
| Everyday, I' m banging Screw | |
| Your slab just ain' t no slab, if Robert Davis ain' t in itin itin it | |
| Hook | |
| Point Blank: | |
| Listen it' s hard to think, when your mind goes blank | |
| Leaning on these cake ass niggaz, like a pint | |
| I write what I feel, and I feel what I write | |
| Fuck if a nigga don' t like it, and bitch wanna fight | |
| The struggle ingrade in my skin, by the tip of a dull knife | |
| One verse from JayZ, got me doing a hard knock life | |
| Listen I try to stay focused, sometime my vision get blurry | |
| And distracted, why all these people keep on fucking with me | |
| I move swiftly through the vultures, rats and roaches | |
| Playing chess, with these toy soldiers | |
| But you can' t complain, when you carrying the whole world on your shoulders | |
| Cause people depending on you, niggaz gotta eat | |
| Now how you gon look, big pimping and big living | |
| And all the click that run with you, sleeping on the streets | |
| I do the best I can, I bust my ass | |
| If the next man can' t do the same, I wash my hands I' m struggling to change | |
| Hook | |
| zuò qǔ : Z Ro | |
| Keeping crack out my pocket, a pistol but I don' t cock it | |
| All I wanna do is get paid, but the legal way | |
| I use to be selling drugs, running up and down the boulevard | |
| Better respect, whatever the desert eagle say | |
| 52 due for ZRo, with a mad super ego | |
| Couldn' t nobody, tell a nigga nothing about life | |
| Till I started tripping too hard, smoking them sherms in the dark | |
| And was a witness to my people, being shot twice | |
| I had to get my mind right, stop gripping that iron tight | |
| Everybody, ain' t out to get a nigga for bread | |
| But I promise it wasn' t nothing, but niggaz be gum bumping | |
| My pistol' ll come jumping, nothing but infrared | |
| 32 grams up, and this killer could be a veteran not a rookie | |
| ZRo is that nigga, that' ll see thoed ' fore it' s over with | |
| Dealing with haters and perpetrators, trying to fade us | |
| But I' m cooking up something major, wait till they get a load of it | |
| Hook: | |
| Struggling, to change | |
| Trying to find, an exit out of the game | |
| Looking for a better way, to make change | |
| Daily decisions, bout to make a brother break mayn | |
| All I ever did, was wanna shine | |
| Make enough money, just so I could support mine | |
| All the days of my life, I been on my grind | |
| Laws trying to lock me down, for a lifetime | |
| ZRo: | |
| We use to be pimping broads, Mo City to Clinton Park | |
| They tell us we went too hard, trying to make us a million | |
| But look what we living in, gotta get us some dividends | |
| Rolling over ridiculous niggaz, that be screaming out many men | |
| Wishing death on you, when they pull or take on you | |
| Tell me, what you gon do now | |
| I' m really trying to change, don' t make me get up and get that thang mayn | |
| Close range, I will blow you down | |
| Everyday, I' m banging Screw | |
| Your slab just ain' t no slab, if Robert Davis ain' t in it | |
| Everyday, I' m banging Screw | |
| Your slab just ain' t no slab, if Robert Davis ain' t in itin itin it | |
| Hook | |
| Point Blank: | |
| Listen it' s hard to think, when your mind goes blank | |
| Leaning on these cake ass niggaz, like a pint | |
| I write what I feel, and I feel what I write | |
| Fuck if a nigga don' t like it, and bitch wanna fight | |
| The struggle ingrade in my skin, by the tip of a dull knife | |
| One verse from JayZ, got me doing a hard knock life | |
| Listen I try to stay focused, sometime my vision get blurry | |
| And distracted, why all these people keep on fucking with me | |
| I move swiftly through the vultures, rats and roaches | |
| Playing chess, with these toy soldiers | |
| But you can' t complain, when you carrying the whole world on your shoulders | |
| Cause people depending on you, niggaz gotta eat | |
| Now how you gon look, big pimping and big living | |
| And all the click that run with you, sleeping on the streets | |
| I do the best I can, I bust my ass | |
| If the next man can' t do the same, I wash my hands I' m struggling to change | |
| Hook | |
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