[Intro: 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 mothafuckin' pot and pull a dollar out
You know what I'm talkin' bout?
Every day, all day, heavy not small play nigga what
Haha, uhh
[Verse 1:Z-Ro]
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 what's 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
[Hook:Z-Ro]
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'm gone let the top down, even though I'm on 4's, I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing
[Verse 2:Billy Cook]
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 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
[Hook:Z-Ro]
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'm gone let the top down, even though I'm on 4's, I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing
[Verse 3: Z-Ro]
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 popping
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
[Hook:Z-Ro]
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'm gone let the top down, even though I'm on 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, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'ma act, one two, one two
I'ma act, just like a nigga do, a nigga do
I'm gone let the top down, even though I'm on 4's, I ain't swanging
Rather roll cruise control, as the cigarilla blows
Cell phone ringing, traffic light changing