| 作曲 : Z Ro | |
| Uh, the damn place made me crazy | |
| I don't care about nothing but my daddy my granny, my bitch and my babies | |
| Everything else, is expendable | |
| Find out that fake niggaz, ain't dependable | |
| I don't owe, you niggaz shit bitch | |
| Home light weight but my style great, now my pockets is the shit | |
| Now it's time, for expansion | |
| Bought a nice house for parole, now I'm grind up building a mansion | |
| I'm a rapper, and a game capper | |
| Blue and red like a snapper, got a thang for them pussy ass jackers | |
| That ain't, no real hustle | |
| Get some white gold or work it, and getting some real muscle bitch | |
| If you want it, you can sho 'nuff get it | |
| Made me bust your watermelon, come on down fuck with it | |
| Everybody, ain't no punk | |
| I'm talking to you now boy, don't make me go and pop the trunk biatch | |
| [Hook:] | |
| Everyday, me keep it sucker free | |
| Me not fuck with nobody, so why do them fuck with me | |
| Don't test me temper, make me have to watch me cool | |
| Mack buyacka-buyacka, I didn't wanna act a fool | |
| But I'm a murderer, murderer | |
| I'm a murderer, murderer | |
| [Spice 1:] | |
| It's Mr. Bossilinie, rolling up busting with real riders | |
| Drop them b-b-bombs, like I'm up in Al Qida | |
| Cause I'm a murderer, put it on you haters for real | |
| Hit a nigga with the 4-5, get to dumping slugs all in his Caddy grill | |
| Smoke chronic for my glaucoma, yeah I said glaucoma | |
| I got a motherfucking glock, and I put niggaz in comas | |
| Hit corners on 24's, waving hi at your hoes | |
| With bald heads braids, perms and afros | |
| I'm caked up like Duncan Hi, but I'm not your average do' boy | |
| I autograph a slug, and put you on the flo' boy | |
| It's the Spiceberg Slim, Soprano Montana minds | |
| I done been through the flames, walked through the motherfucking fire | |
| They can never, put my flame out | |
| And if I wasn't high, I'd pull your motherfucking brains out murderer | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Z-Ro:] | |
| Everyday I label my loot, leaving you ladies lonely | |
| I don't love pussy, I just love to murder these niggaz when they walk up on me | |
| Y'all don't know me, some of y'all rappers think y'all know me | |
| This nigga right here don't give a fuck though, so I suggest you hoes step back | |
| What I got in my pants is called a, that's too big to fit in a holster gat | |
| Straight from where niggaz sell that mad crack, just ran him over crack | |
| It ain't no love in Missouri City, my partna I know it look nice | |
| A 4-5 fuck around, hit a nigga you'll get took twice | |
| Might get beat up and robbed, or you might get beat up and shot | |
| It all depend on what you riding in, and if it look like you got a lot or not | |
| I use to think I'd have a future, playing basketball | |
| But lately all I been doing, is putting people in caskets y'all | |
| Am I sorry hell naw, if I sent him he was already on his way | |
| When the grim reaper swing by, it'll make you wish your ass was home today | |
| Fuck with me I'ma hit up Spice, it ain't a thang to tap the trigger twice | |
| Brrr-click brr-click, they sideways into the next life | |
| [Hook] | |
| zuo qu : Z Ro | |
| Uh, the damn place made me crazy | |
| I don' t care about nothing but my daddy my granny, my bitch and my babies | |
| Everything else, is expendable | |
| Find out that fake niggaz, ain' t dependable | |
| I don' t owe, you niggaz shit bitch | |
| Home light weight but my style great, now my pockets is the shit | |
| Now it' s time, for expansion | |
| Bought a nice house for parole, now I' m grind up building a mansion | |
| I' m a rapper, and a game capper | |
| Blue and red like a snapper, got a thang for them pussy ass jackers | |
| That ain' t, no real hustle | |
| Get some white gold or work it, and getting some real muscle bitch | |
| If you want it, you can sho ' nuff get it | |
| Made me bust your watermelon, come on down fuck with it | |
| Everybody, ain' t no punk | |
| I' m talking to you now boy, don' t make me go and pop the trunk biatch | |
| Hook: | |
| Everyday, me keep it sucker free | |
| Me not fuck with nobody, so why do them fuck with me | |
| Don' t test me temper, make me have to watch me cool | |
| Mack buyackabuyacka, I didn' t wanna act a fool | |
| But I' m a murderer, murderer | |
| I' m a murderer, murderer | |
| Spice 1: | |
| It' s Mr. Bossilinie, rolling up busting with real riders | |
| Drop them bbbombs, like I' m up in Al Qida | |
| Cause I' m a murderer, put it on you haters for real | |
| Hit a nigga with the 45, get to dumping slugs all in his Caddy grill | |
| Smoke chronic for my glaucoma, yeah I said glaucoma | |
| I got a motherfucking glock, and I put niggaz in comas | |
| Hit corners on 24' s, waving hi at your hoes | |
| With bald heads braids, perms and afros | |
| I' m caked up like Duncan Hi, but I' m not your average do' boy | |
| I autograph a slug, and put you on the flo' boy | |
| It' s the Spiceberg Slim, Soprano Montana minds | |
| I done been through the flames, walked through the motherfucking fire | |
| They can never, put my flame out | |
| And if I wasn' t high, I' d pull your motherfucking brains out murderer | |
| Hook | |
| ZRo: | |
| Everyday I label my loot, leaving you ladies lonely | |
| I don' t love pussy, I just love to murder these niggaz when they walk up on me | |
| Y' all don' t know me, some of y' all rappers think y' all know me | |
| This nigga right here don' t give a fuck though, so I suggest you hoes step back | |
| What I got in my pants is called a, that' s too big to fit in a holster gat | |
| Straight from where niggaz sell that mad crack, just ran him over crack | |
| It ain' t no love in Missouri City, my partna I know it look nice | |
| A 45 fuck around, hit a nigga you' ll get took twice | |
| Might get beat up and robbed, or you might get beat up and shot | |
| It all depend on what you riding in, and if it look like you got a lot or not | |
| I use to think I' d have a future, playing basketball | |
| But lately all I been doing, is putting people in caskets y' all | |
| Am I sorry hell naw, if I sent him he was already on his way | |
| When the grim reaper swing by, it' ll make you wish your ass was home today | |
| Fuck with me I' ma hit up Spice, it ain' t a thang to tap the trigger twice | |
| Brrrclick brrclick, they sideways into the next life | |
| Hook | |
| zuò qǔ : Z Ro | |
| Uh, the damn place made me crazy | |
| I don' t care about nothing but my daddy my granny, my bitch and my babies | |
| Everything else, is expendable | |
| Find out that fake niggaz, ain' t dependable | |
| I don' t owe, you niggaz shit bitch | |
| Home light weight but my style great, now my pockets is the shit | |
| Now it' s time, for expansion | |
| Bought a nice house for parole, now I' m grind up building a mansion | |
| I' m a rapper, and a game capper | |
| Blue and red like a snapper, got a thang for them pussy ass jackers | |
| That ain' t, no real hustle | |
| Get some white gold or work it, and getting some real muscle bitch | |
| If you want it, you can sho ' nuff get it | |
| Made me bust your watermelon, come on down fuck with it | |
| Everybody, ain' t no punk | |
| I' m talking to you now boy, don' t make me go and pop the trunk biatch | |
| Hook: | |
| Everyday, me keep it sucker free | |
| Me not fuck with nobody, so why do them fuck with me | |
| Don' t test me temper, make me have to watch me cool | |
| Mack buyackabuyacka, I didn' t wanna act a fool | |
| But I' m a murderer, murderer | |
| I' m a murderer, murderer | |
| Spice 1: | |
| It' s Mr. Bossilinie, rolling up busting with real riders | |
| Drop them bbbombs, like I' m up in Al Qida | |
| Cause I' m a murderer, put it on you haters for real | |
| Hit a nigga with the 45, get to dumping slugs all in his Caddy grill | |
| Smoke chronic for my glaucoma, yeah I said glaucoma | |
| I got a motherfucking glock, and I put niggaz in comas | |
| Hit corners on 24' s, waving hi at your hoes | |
| With bald heads braids, perms and afros | |
| I' m caked up like Duncan Hi, but I' m not your average do' boy | |
| I autograph a slug, and put you on the flo' boy | |
| It' s the Spiceberg Slim, Soprano Montana minds | |
| I done been through the flames, walked through the motherfucking fire | |
| They can never, put my flame out | |
| And if I wasn' t high, I' d pull your motherfucking brains out murderer | |
| Hook | |
| ZRo: | |
| Everyday I label my loot, leaving you ladies lonely | |
| I don' t love pussy, I just love to murder these niggaz when they walk up on me | |
| Y' all don' t know me, some of y' all rappers think y' all know me | |
| This nigga right here don' t give a fuck though, so I suggest you hoes step back | |
| What I got in my pants is called a, that' s too big to fit in a holster gat | |
| Straight from where niggaz sell that mad crack, just ran him over crack | |
| It ain' t no love in Missouri City, my partna I know it look nice | |
| A 45 fuck around, hit a nigga you' ll get took twice | |
| Might get beat up and robbed, or you might get beat up and shot | |
| It all depend on what you riding in, and if it look like you got a lot or not | |
| I use to think I' d have a future, playing basketball | |
| But lately all I been doing, is putting people in caskets y' all | |
| Am I sorry hell naw, if I sent him he was already on his way | |
| When the grim reaper swing by, it' ll make you wish your ass was home today | |
| Fuck with me I' ma hit up Spice, it ain' t a thang to tap the trigger twice | |
| Brrrclick brrclick, they sideways into the next life | |
| Hook | |
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