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letra de rollin down (fuck what u heard) - z-ro

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[verse: z-ro]
…bird
man, f-ck what you done heard
promise i’ll rock for rock a whole bird
getting my money, getting my mulla
b-tch i’ll do ya, i’ll pull a maneuver
either with a rooga, either with a looga
i don’t give a d-mn i’ll pluck you like a booger
meant to say a booga, plus my sugar, i’m talking bout the nina
b-tch i’ll bring a, whole nother level to the mothaf-ckin 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 f-cking songs
i’ma just go real hard on and on
what up to the chuck, he don’t give a f-ck
we gone ride buck, in the big truck
maybe in the lac, sedan, de ville
and i promise, devious run or i k!ll
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 f-ck 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, f-ck beer
we sippin on drank; i don’t give a f-ck what you hoes think
all the way to the mother f-cking 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
n-gga like me running like tiki barber
maybe like, a mothaf-ckin 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 c-ck it, and it’s
rollin, rollin, rollin down
these h-town streets, sippin codeine
razorblade grease in my mothaf-ckin jeans
rollin, rollin, rollin down, these southside streets
i ain’t never been a b-tch; 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 k!lled
never keep it fake, i keep it real
i got the bumper kit, i got the pistol so jump me b-tch
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 b-tch, 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
b-tch 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 b-tch i’m living it up

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