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Never Been

Artist:Z-Ro  Album:Angel Dust 

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The less I fuck with you niggas, the better I feel Don't know no nothin' else what I can be if I wasn't real I borrowed those lines from Plies, that's just how I feel Brass knuckles and a 38 with a beam, that's just how I chill AK-47 and a ski mask, that's how I kill Professional dranka' my nigga, my cup will never spill Where I'm from, the police is the only thing I'll run from Only thang on my mind is money, and what bitch I can get some from I ain't never been a bitch, don't know how to be a hoe Only thing I know how to do is collect my dough So if you owe me money, pay me on time 8-7-tre-4-2-4, death before dishonor on mine Me be a punk, I would have to leave this world for that Matter fact my momma coulda' had a girl for that If I hold my hands a certain when I'm in the courtroom That could guarantee me walkin' out of the courtroom Ain't no other rapper got a set of skills like Ro got I swear I'm half a man and half machine, call me Ro-bot You ain't gotta wonder if Z-Ro gon' ever sell out, Z-Ro not From Greenspoint to Mo-City, Texas, all of that's Ro block Kick door burglars started in my hood, so watch yo' door lock Kick that bitch in, roll in yo' shit, take everything and then roll out That was '94, I was hiding out, homicide was trying to find me Ain't that a bitch, now I got my whole city and state behind me I'm cool as a popsicle, in the freezer, in the winter time But I'm a damn fool and a half about respect, so give me mine Uh, so when they lay me in my hole They gon' say that was a man right there homie, I put that on my soul I ain't never been a bitch or don't know how to be a hoe Only thing I know how to do is go get the dough The cheese, the bread, the feria, lucci Hoe I just want what's in your purse, you can keep the cuchi I ain't never been a bitch or don't know how to be a hoe Only thing I know how to do is go get the dough, Hey Even if they kill me I ain't going no where Turn up the volume to the radio, I'll be right there (Ro-Pac) It feels so good to be free, I ain't even thinkin' 'bout a penitentiary Apple sauce and yellow grits, that ain't breakfast T-bone steak and eggs back in Screwed Up Texas Ain't a thang change, everything still the same Haters still hate the gangbangers still bang But we still fuck with it, lil' body that's makin' change Snitches still need a record deal 'cause they still sang You ain't no woman, you a bitch to me And a friend, still ain't shit to me


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