Lyrics One Two - Z-RO

Screwed Up Click for life

Z-Ro the Crooked
A.K.A. the king of the ghetto
But y'all can call me Rotha Vandross this year though you dig?
Anyway man

I'm just out here tryna shake the muthafuckin' pot and pull a dollar out
You know what I'm talkin' bout
Everyday all day
Heavy not small play nigga what
Haha, Uhh

I wake up early in the evening 'round 5:30 or 6:00

My nextell beepin' from all the calls I missed
Brush my grill till it looks like whats around my wrist
Drop some kush in a cigarillo and then give it a twist
Pull out a black t-shirt

Beige Dickie pants
Black house shoes
Can't forget my candana to give em the blues
Open up the safe and grab some paper
Call Fo' up at Hemp Sports Clips and let him know I need another taper
Call up one of the smokers to wash my ride
Just like at the car wash but he gon' do it right outside
I don't kick it with fellas
I kick it with broads
Fellas act like females
So why not kick it with a woman from the start
My mind marinated full of liquor
Remember me in the hoo-doo with expired tags and stickers
But I'm on swangas today
And everything is blue over grey
Look out Houston Texas
Z-Ro is on his way I'ma let the top down

I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do
I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do nigga
I'm, gone let the top down
Even though I'm 4's
I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing

It's a sunny screwed up day outside
Might as well pull out the candy slab
It's time to ride
Go from candy blue to purple right before your eyes
Jackers think I'm slipping
But I keep them pipes on my side
Gripping wood grain
Homie if you love your life don't run up on me mane
Ya damn right, I'm a legend in the game
It's Billy Cook
And that nigga Joseph Wayne
Yeah we have chips checks and loose change
Cause the ghetto is where we come from
The same place booshie you bitches run from
Since the beginning
I had a piss poor hand
Now I turned it into a winner
Y'all haters don't understand
Minimum wage nigga
Now earning a hundred grand
I can pay my own way
Got my own money man
B-I-L-L-Y C-O-O-K
Foreign car now
Was in a dropper yesterday

I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do
I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do nigga
I'm, gone let the top down
Even though I'm 4's
I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing

Just like Big H.A.W.K
My cup is full of something bubbly
And I'm on the boulevard acting ugly
But I'm not swinging in and out of my lane
Speaking of my trunk
And the gorillas inside it that's making it bang
And if a jacker comes my way
I load my AK
Don't think I won't spray
This'll be your last day
I worked too damn hard for mine
24-7 on the grind
All you gone end up with is a hard time
From I-10 to Beltway 8 to 59 South
To purchase a sack of that lemon lime and I'm out
About to roll to my homegirl house
Her man tripping
Cause he think I got her stripping
But we just flipping
And ain't no club hopping
Even if the club hopping
I'ma pass
Never even take my foot off the gas
I'm headed to the studio
To drop a couple of songs
When I'm finished
We gon' bounce and continue to roam
And let the top down

I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do
I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do nigga
I'm, gone let the top down
Even though I'm 4's
I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing

I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do
I'ma act, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do nigga
I'm, gone let the top down
Even though I'm 4's
I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing