Mo City Don(Explicit)

Mo City Don (Regular)-Z-RO

Sh*t, Z-Ro the Crooked, I know y'all

Been waiting on this here, yeah sh*t

R.I.P. Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator

All the fallen soldiers man, Southside

Eastside, Westside, Northside, know I'm saying

All my partnas, all your dead partnas

But sh*t I still feel stress, still gotta get something

Off my chest, while these hoe niggaz be doing what

They be doing, I don't know though, sh*t f**k it

We gon stay two deep in a fo'do'

Slow Loud And 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 motherf**king soldier

Out the streets, of the Ridgemont 4

Not no b**ch, and say I still ain't a hoe

Letting niggaz know, everyday of the year

I pimp my pen, and I get my point clear

Why niggaz wanna talk down, I don't know

Gotta take a trip to Akapoko, from the 4

With my 4-4 on my side, when I ride

Ready to do another homicide, in a pine box

And I'm gone, ni**a old glory

I'm H-Town to Cali, just like Robert Horry

If I do a murder, flee the murder scene

No missing shortage on the drank, I can't find no lean

From Southwest to Southfese, b**ch it's about war not bout peace

Ni**a like me, I'm bout knocking out teeth

Know I'm saying, I'll loose your grill

A ni**a coming down, in the Coupe Deville

Looking gravy, looking real throwed

I'ma be the ni**a, pulling over at the f**king cross road

With my K on my side, I'm ready to ride

And if I gotta go, it'll be a homicide

Me and another ni**a, on the way to the Golden Gate

A ni**a like me, can't wait

Just to make it, to another day

Gotta get the big pay off, so get the f**k out my way

When I come around your corner, so slow

It'll be the ni**a, in the damn Polo

That's the Ralph Lauren, jackers ain't barring

Why I skipped the slab, and went straight to foreign

Said it like I said it, in the old school

Some niggaz they be red, but Z-Ro blue

I come around your corner, but I ain't set tripping

But I will, wet niggaz and wet women

With the calico, I had to let a motherf**ker know

That I come around your corner, in a Lincoln four do'

A fox photo, cause I do it in a flash

Ni**a watch out, cause that could be your a**

I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong

I flex ma bicep, then I swoll on

Get on, the motherf**king bench

And when the laws hit the corner, I hit the fence

They wonder where I went, they keep looking

I don't give a f**k, like Tyson I keep hooking

Or maybe like Lenox, I'm strong to the finish

I'm like the ghetto Popeye, but I don't wat spinach

I'ma keep going, I keep on flowing just like the Nile

Million dolla mouthpiece, everytime I smile

Look and load a, ni**a ask Trae

Everytime he smile, he can turn the night to day

You can open up the pop, and let the smoke come out

We don't give a damn, bout a crooked a**cop

Crooked officer, crooked officer

Make a ni**a wanna blow the badge, off of ya

Me and Dougie, my motherf**king brother

R.I.P., to my motherf**king mother

That's the Dorothy Marie McVay Matthew

There's ten toes planted, in my motherf**king shoe

I gotta be a man, hope you understand

There's nothing but the work, and the calico in my hand

On a corner on the Ridgevan, and I'm serving a fiend

A real live B-Boy, and you know what I mean

I be stacking up chips, like Lego

Dunk on a punk, just like Calvin Kato

Houston to the Rocket, a four-peat like Comets

I don't give a f**k, good punch a b**ch ni**a make him vomit

On the grind, I'ma take a trip on Greyhound

I be flying on a plane, but the d**e 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 motherf**king Benz-e

Got these hoes running round, in a friendse

I be busting full clips, till they empty

A piece of potent p**sy, might tempt me

they is trying to send me, to the Penitentiary

The main reason why, I ain't friendly

I'm wired up, but I ain't on no damn slaughter

Dejaun in the back, and he got the camcorder

Recording everything, the 4's gon swang

Still pulling up, on Fondren and the Main

Looking lovely, got to look good

I throw up Ridgemont 4, cause that's my hood

Never been a hoe, I'm letting hoes know

I gotta get a f**king P-L-A-T, but first a G-O

L-D, a motherf**king plack

I keep it straight and simple like that, hit a b**ch from the back

And I use my, motherf**king tool

Make her say ouch, when I hit her with the mule