Mo City Don (Freestyle) Lyrics
| Song | Mo City Don (Freestyle) |
| Artist | Z-Ro |
| Album | Let the Truth Be Told |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Barrier, Griffin, McVey | |
| (*talking*) | |
| *******t, Z-Ro the Crooked, I know y'all been waitin' on this here, yep, *******t. | |
| R.I.P. Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator. | |
| All the fallen soldiers man. | |
| Southside, Eastside, Westside, Northside. You know what I'm sayin'? | |
| All my partners, all your dead partners | |
| But *******t I still feel stress, I still gotta get something off my chest | |
| While these hoe *******s be doin' what they be doin' | |
| I don't know though, *******t ******* it | |
| We gon' stay 2 deep in a fo' do'. | |
| [Z-Ro:] | |
| Slow Loud & Bangin' all in my trunk | |
| Trunk full of funk, I ain't never been a punk | |
| I blow on skunk, I blow on doja | |
| Military minded, I'm a mutha******' soldier | |
| Out the streets of the Ridgemont 4 | |
| Not no ******* & say I still ain't a hoe | |
| Lettin' *******s know everyday of the year | |
| I pimp my pen & I get my point clear. | |
| Why *******s wanna talk down? I don't know | |
| Gotta take a trip to Akapoko from the 4 | |
| With my .44 on my side when I ride | |
| Ready to do another homicide in a pine box | |
| And I'm gone, ******* old glory | |
| I'm H-Town to Cali just like Robert Horry | |
| If I do a murder flee the murder scene | |
| No missin' shortage on the drank, I can't find no lean | |
| From Southwest to Southfese, ******* it's about war not 'about peace | |
| ******* like me, I'm 'about knockin' out teeth. | |
| You know what I'm sayin'? I'll loose your grill | |
| A ******* comin' down in the Coupe Deville | |
| Lookin' gravy, lookin' real throwed | |
| I'm a be the ******* pullin' over at the ******g cross road | |
| With my K on my side, I'm ready to ride | |
| And if I gotta go it'll be a homicide | |
| Me & another ******* on the way to the Golden Gate | |
| A ******* like me can't wait just to make it to another day | |
| Gotta get the big pay off, so get the ******* out my way | |
| When I come around your corner so slow | |
| It'll be the ******* in the damn Polo | |
| That's the Ralph Lauren, jackers ain't barrin' | |
| Why I skipped the slab when I went straight to foreign | |
| Said it like I said it in the old school | |
| Some *******s they be red but Z-Ro blue | |
| I come around your corner but I ain't set trippin' | |
| But I will wet *******s & wet ******* | |
| With the calico, I had to let a mutha******* know | |
| That I come around your corner in a Lincoln 4 do' | |
| A fox photo 'cause I do it in a flash | |
| ******* watch out 'cause that could be your ass | |
| I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong | |
| I flicks my bar sip then I swoll on | |
| Get on the mutha******' bench | |
| And when the laws hit the corner I hit the fence | |
| They wonder where I went, they keep lookin' | |
| I don't give a ******* like Tyson I keep hookin' | |
| Or maybe like Lenox, I'm strong to the finish | |
| I'm like the ghetto Popeye, but I don't need spinach | |
| I'm a keep goin' I keep on flowin' just like the Nile | |
| Million dollar mouthpiece everytime I smile | |
| Look & load a ******* ashtray | |
| Everytime he smile he can turn the night to day | |
| You can open up the pop & let the smoke come out | |
| We don't give a damn 'about a crooked ass cop | |
| Crooked officer, crooked officer | |
| Make a ******* wanna blow the badge off of ya | |
| Me & Dougie, my mutha******' brother | |
| R.I.P. to my muh'******' mother | |
| That's the Dorothy Marie McVey Matthew | |
| There's 10 toes planted in my muh'******' shoe | |
| I gotta be a man, I hope you understand | |
| There's nothin' but the work & the calico in my hand | |
| On a corner on the Ridgevan & I'm servin' a fiend | |
| A real live B-Boy & you know what I mean | |
| I be stackin' up chips like Lego | |
| Dark on a pump just like Calvin Kato | |
| Houston to the Rocket, a 4 peat like Comets | |
| I don't give a *******, good punch a ******* ******* make him vomit | |
| On the grind, I'm a take a trip on Greyhound | |
| I be flyin' on a plane but the **** is on the ground | |
| Headed to Lake Charles or headed to Lafayette | |
| Maybe off in Alexandria but I ain't finished yet | |
| I gotta make a hoe I-10, I sin | |
| Then I do it again | |
| I get my ends, I'm in my mutha******' Benz-y | |
| Got these hoes runnin' around in a friends-y | |
| I be bustin' full clips 'til they empty | |
| A piece of potent ******* might tempt me | |
| Rain is tryin' to send me to the Penitentiary | |
| The main reason why I ain't friendy | |
| I'm wired up, but I ain't on no damn slaughter | |
| Dejaun in the back & he got the camcorder | |
| Recordin' everything the 4's gon' swang | |
| Still pullin' up on Fondren & the Main | |
| Lookin' lovely, got to look good | |
| I throw up Ridgemont 4 'cause that's my hood | |
| Never been a hoe, I'm lettin' hoes know | |
| I gotta get a ******' P L A T, but first a G O L D | |
| A mutha******' plack | |
| I keep it straight & simple like that, hit a ******* from the back | |
| And I use my mutha******' tool | |
| Make her say atch, when I hit a with The Mule. |
| zuo qu : Barrier, Griffin, McVey | |
| talking | |
| t, ZRo the Crooked, I know y' all been waitin' on this here, yep, t. | |
| R. I. P. Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator. | |
| All the fallen soldiers man. | |
| Southside, Eastside, Westside, Northside. You know what I' m sayin'? | |
| All my partners, all your dead partners | |
| But t I still feel stress, I still gotta get something off my chest | |
| While these hoe s be doin' what they be doin' | |
| I don' t know though, t it | |
| We gon' stay 2 deep in a fo' do'. | |
| ZRo: | |
| Slow Loud Bangin' all in my trunk | |
| Trunk full of funk, I ain' t never been a punk | |
| I blow on skunk, I blow on doja | |
| Military minded, I' m a mutha' soldier | |
| Out the streets of the Ridgemont 4 | |
| Not no say I still ain' t a hoe | |
| Lettin' s know everyday of the year | |
| I pimp my pen I get my point clear. | |
| Why s wanna talk down? I don' t know | |
| Gotta take a trip to Akapoko from the 4 | |
| With my . 44 on my side when I ride | |
| Ready to do another homicide in a pine box | |
| And I' m gone, old glory | |
| I' m HTown to Cali just like Robert Horry | |
| If I do a murder flee the murder scene | |
| No missin' shortage on the drank, I can' t find no lean | |
| From Southwest to Southfese, it' s about war not ' about peace | |
| like me, I' m ' about knockin' out teeth. | |
| You know what I' m sayin'? I' ll loose your grill | |
| A comin' down in the Coupe Deville | |
| Lookin' gravy, lookin' real throwed | |
| I' m a be the pullin' over at the g cross road | |
| With my K on my side, I' m ready to ride | |
| And if I gotta go it' ll be a homicide | |
| Me another on the way to the Golden Gate | |
| A like me can' t wait just to make it to another day | |
| Gotta get the big pay off, so get the out my way | |
| When I come around your corner so slow | |
| It' ll be the in the damn Polo | |
| That' s the Ralph Lauren, jackers ain' t barrin' | |
| Why I skipped the slab when I went straight to foreign | |
| Said it like I said it in the old school | |
| Some s they be red but ZRo blue | |
| I come around your corner but I ain' t set trippin' | |
| But I will wet s wet | |
| With the calico, I had to let a mutha know | |
| That I come around your corner in a Lincoln 4 do' | |
| A fox photo ' cause I do it in a flash | |
| watch out ' cause that could be your ass | |
| I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong | |
| I flicks my bar sip then I swoll on | |
| Get on the mutha' bench | |
| And when the laws hit the corner I hit the fence | |
| They wonder where I went, they keep lookin' | |
| I don' t give a like Tyson I keep hookin' | |
| Or maybe like Lenox, I' m strong to the finish | |
| I' m like the ghetto Popeye, but I don' t need spinach | |
| I' m a keep goin' I keep on flowin' just like the Nile | |
| Million dollar mouthpiece everytime I smile | |
| Look load a ashtray | |
| Everytime he smile he can turn the night to day | |
| You can open up the pop let the smoke come out | |
| We don' t give a damn ' about a crooked ass cop | |
| Crooked officer, crooked officer | |
| Make a wanna blow the badge off of ya | |
| Me Dougie, my mutha' brother | |
| R. I. P. to my muh'' mother | |
| That' s the Dorothy Marie McVey Matthew | |
| There' s 10 toes planted in my muh'' shoe | |
| I gotta be a man, I hope you understand | |
| There' s nothin' but the work the calico in my hand | |
| On a corner on the Ridgevan I' m servin' a fiend | |
| A real live BBoy you know what I mean | |
| I be stackin' up chips like Lego | |
| Dark on a pump just like Calvin Kato | |
| Houston to the Rocket, a 4 peat like Comets | |
| I don' t give a , good punch a make him vomit | |
| On the grind, I' m a take a trip on Greyhound | |
| I be flyin' on a plane but the is on the ground | |
| Headed to Lake Charles or headed to Lafayette | |
| Maybe off in Alexandria but I ain' t finished yet | |
| I gotta make a hoe I10, I sin | |
| Then I do it again | |
| I get my ends, I' m in my mutha' Benzy | |
| Got these hoes runnin' around in a friendsy | |
| I be bustin' full clips ' til they empty | |
| A piece of potent might tempt me | |
| Rain is tryin' to send me to the Penitentiary | |
| The main reason why I ain' t friendy | |
| I' m wired up, but I ain' t on no damn slaughter | |
| Dejaun in the back he got the camcorder | |
| Recordin' everything the 4' s gon' swang | |
| Still pullin' up on Fondren the Main | |
| Lookin' lovely, got to look good | |
| I throw up Ridgemont 4 ' cause that' s my hood | |
| Never been a hoe, I' m lettin' hoes know | |
| I gotta get a ' P L A T, but first a G O L D | |
| A mutha' plack | |
| I keep it straight simple like that, hit a from the back | |
| And I use my mutha' tool | |
| Make her say atch, when I hit a with The Mule. |
| zuò qǔ : Barrier, Griffin, McVey | |
| talking | |
| t, ZRo the Crooked, I know y' all been waitin' on this here, yep, t. | |
| R. I. P. Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator. | |
| All the fallen soldiers man. | |
| Southside, Eastside, Westside, Northside. You know what I' m sayin'? | |
| All my partners, all your dead partners | |
| But t I still feel stress, I still gotta get something off my chest | |
| While these hoe s be doin' what they be doin' | |
| I don' t know though, t it | |
| We gon' stay 2 deep in a fo' do'. | |
| ZRo: | |
| Slow Loud Bangin' all in my trunk | |
| Trunk full of funk, I ain' t never been a punk | |
| I blow on skunk, I blow on doja | |
| Military minded, I' m a mutha' soldier | |
| Out the streets of the Ridgemont 4 | |
| Not no say I still ain' t a hoe | |
| Lettin' s know everyday of the year | |
| I pimp my pen I get my point clear. | |
| Why s wanna talk down? I don' t know | |
| Gotta take a trip to Akapoko from the 4 | |
| With my . 44 on my side when I ride | |
| Ready to do another homicide in a pine box | |
| And I' m gone, old glory | |
| I' m HTown to Cali just like Robert Horry | |
| If I do a murder flee the murder scene | |
| No missin' shortage on the drank, I can' t find no lean | |
| From Southwest to Southfese, it' s about war not ' about peace | |
| like me, I' m ' about knockin' out teeth. | |
| You know what I' m sayin'? I' ll loose your grill | |
| A comin' down in the Coupe Deville | |
| Lookin' gravy, lookin' real throwed | |
| I' m a be the pullin' over at the g cross road | |
| With my K on my side, I' m ready to ride | |
| And if I gotta go it' ll be a homicide | |
| Me another on the way to the Golden Gate | |
| A like me can' t wait just to make it to another day | |
| Gotta get the big pay off, so get the out my way | |
| When I come around your corner so slow | |
| It' ll be the in the damn Polo | |
| That' s the Ralph Lauren, jackers ain' t barrin' | |
| Why I skipped the slab when I went straight to foreign | |
| Said it like I said it in the old school | |
| Some s they be red but ZRo blue | |
| I come around your corner but I ain' t set trippin' | |
| But I will wet s wet | |
| With the calico, I had to let a mutha know | |
| That I come around your corner in a Lincoln 4 do' | |
| A fox photo ' cause I do it in a flash | |
| watch out ' cause that could be your ass | |
| I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong | |
| I flicks my bar sip then I swoll on | |
| Get on the mutha' bench | |
| And when the laws hit the corner I hit the fence | |
| They wonder where I went, they keep lookin' | |
| I don' t give a like Tyson I keep hookin' | |
| Or maybe like Lenox, I' m strong to the finish | |
| I' m like the ghetto Popeye, but I don' t need spinach | |
| I' m a keep goin' I keep on flowin' just like the Nile | |
| Million dollar mouthpiece everytime I smile | |
| Look load a ashtray | |
| Everytime he smile he can turn the night to day | |
| You can open up the pop let the smoke come out | |
| We don' t give a damn ' about a crooked ass cop | |
| Crooked officer, crooked officer | |
| Make a wanna blow the badge off of ya | |
| Me Dougie, my mutha' brother | |
| R. I. P. to my muh'' mother | |
| That' s the Dorothy Marie McVey Matthew | |
| There' s 10 toes planted in my muh'' shoe | |
| I gotta be a man, I hope you understand | |
| There' s nothin' but the work the calico in my hand | |
| On a corner on the Ridgevan I' m servin' a fiend | |
| A real live BBoy you know what I mean | |
| I be stackin' up chips like Lego | |
| Dark on a pump just like Calvin Kato | |
| Houston to the Rocket, a 4 peat like Comets | |
| I don' t give a , good punch a make him vomit | |
| On the grind, I' m a take a trip on Greyhound | |
| I be flyin' on a plane but the is on the ground | |
| Headed to Lake Charles or headed to Lafayette | |
| Maybe off in Alexandria but I ain' t finished yet | |
| I gotta make a hoe I10, I sin | |
| Then I do it again | |
| I get my ends, I' m in my mutha' Benzy | |
| Got these hoes runnin' around in a friendsy | |
| I be bustin' full clips ' til they empty | |
| A piece of potent might tempt me | |
| Rain is tryin' to send me to the Penitentiary | |
| The main reason why I ain' t friendy | |
| I' m wired up, but I ain' t on no damn slaughter | |
| Dejaun in the back he got the camcorder | |
| Recordin' everything the 4' s gon' swang | |
| Still pullin' up on Fondren the Main | |
| Lookin' lovely, got to look good | |
| I throw up Ridgemont 4 ' cause that' s my hood | |
| Never been a hoe, I' m lettin' hoes know | |
| I gotta get a ' P L A T, but first a G O L D | |
| A mutha' plack | |
| I keep it straight simple like that, hit a from the back | |
| And I use my mutha' tool | |
| Make her say atch, when I hit a with The Mule. |
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