Z-ro - Rollin Down (f** What U Heard) lyrics

[Verse: Z-Ro] ...Bird Man, f** what you done heard Promise I'll rock for rock a whole bird Getting my money, getting my mulla b**h 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 b**h I'll bring a, whole nother level to the mothaf**in 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**ing songs I'ma just go real hard on and on What up to the Chuck, he don't give a f** We gone ride buck, in the big truck Maybe in the Lac, Sedan, de Ville And I promise, devious run or I k** 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** 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** beer We sippin on drank; I don't give a f** what you hoes think All the way to the mother f**ing 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***a like me running like Tiki Barber Maybe like, a mothaf**in 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 co*k it, and it's Rollin, rollin, rollin down These H-Town streets, sippin codeine Razorblade grease in my mothaf**in jeans Rollin, rollin, rollin down, these Southside streets I ain't never been a b**h; 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**ed Never keep it fake, I keep it real I got the bumper kit, I got the pistol so jump me b**h 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**h, 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**h 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**h I'm living it up