Z-Ro - Rollin Down (Fuck What U Heard) Lyrics | FAST DOWNLOAD

Rollin Down (Fuck What U Heard)

[Verse: Z-Ro]
...Bird
Man, fuck what you done heard
Promise I'll rock for rock a whole bird
Getting my money, getting my mulla
Bitch I’ll do ya, I'll pull a maneuver
Either with a rooga, either with a looga
I don’t give a damn I’ll pluck you like a booger
Meant to say a booga, plus my sugar, I’m talking bout the Nina
Bitch I’ll bring a, whole nother level to the mothafuckin game
It’s gone stay the same, I’ll never change
I’ma keep it real, I won’t change you
And I got all Ro CD's in the changer
Jamming my own, own fucking songs
I’ma just go real hard on and on
What up to the Chuck, he don’t give a fuck
We gone ride buck, in the big truck
Maybe in the Lac, Sedan, de Ville
And I promise, devious run or I kill
I ain’t gone trip, I ain’t gone stop
I’ma hit the airbag, make the back hop
Up and down, in my town
Popping my shunk, showing plenty surround
Meant to say “trunk”
I don’t smoke bunk
And I don’t give a fuck you know I’ve never been a punk
I’ma just slide aside, pieces they be falling, from here
All the way to New Orleans, fuck beer
We sippin on drank; I don’t give a fuck what you hoes think
All the way to the mother fucking bank
If I hit the penitentiary, sharpen me a shank
Off on [?], maybe on wine
Baby don’t worry I’m doing my time
Trying come home, rollin on chrome
I’ll put a cereal bowl hole in your dome
Real, real big, raising my kids
And I got tapper wave fade on my wig
Talking bout that Fo, that boy he a barber
Nigga like me running like Tiki Barber
Maybe like, a mothafuckin quarterback
Give me your money and you can’t get your order back
No refunds on the work, I’ve never been a jerk
Make the blood squirt, open up your shirt
Boys better stop it, and I got the .44, I’m about to cock it, and it’s
Rollin, rollin, rollin down
These H-Town streets, sippin codeine
Razorblade grease in my mothafuckin jeans
Rollin, rollin, rollin down, these Southside streets
I ain’t never been a bitch; I’m just trying to get rich mayne
Roll, roll, roll your dope, break down a cigar, candy, candy, candy, candy all around the car
Roll, roll, roll your dope, break down a cigar, candy, candy, candy, candy all around the car
All around the car, sippin on that barre
We some rap stars, it don’t matter who you are
We gone keep it real, with diamonds in the grill
Giving you something you can feel, and I got the woman on the grill
I’ma be a gangsta until I’m killed
Never keep it fake, I keep it real
I got the bumper kit, I got the pistol so jump me bitch
Promise I’ma dig a bigger ditch, in the game trying to get rich
Ain’t no love for a ho
All my love is for the dough, and all my love is for the dro
I meant to say Kush, and I promise my slab don’t need a bush
Your mouth funky bitch, you need a gush
Hold up mayne, I’m about to roll up the Jane
And I’m about to throw up, mayne
Sippin on the PT made you hold in
Bitch I’m coming down in a Benz
And ain’t no love for the friends
They just in the game to get my ends
And I ain’t giving it up; Screwed Up life bitch I'm living it up

Date Added: 2017-08-25
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