Z-Ro - Never Been Lyrics
The less I ***** with you niggas, the better I feelDon’t know no nothin’ else what I can be if I wasn’t realI borrowed those lines from Plies, that’s just how I feelBrass knuckles and a 38 with a beam, that’s just how I chillAK-47 and a ski mask, that’s how I killProfessional dranka’ my nigga, my cup will never spillWhere I’m from, the police is the only thing I’ll run fromOnly thang on my mind is money, and what ***** I can get some fromI ain’t never been a *****, don’t know how to be a hoeOnly thing I know how to do is collect my doughSo if you owe me money, pay me on time8-7-tre-4-2-4, death before dishonor on mineMe be a punk, I would have to leave this world for thatMatter fact my momma coulda’ had a girl for thatIf I hold my hands a certain when I’m in the courtroomThat could guarantee me walkin’ out of the courtroomAin’t no other rapper got a set of skills like Ro gotI swear I’m half a man and half machine, call me Ro-botYou ain’t gotta wonder if Z-Ro gon’ ever sell out, Z-Ro notFrom Greenspoint to Mo-City, Texas, all of that’s Ro blockKick door burglars started in my hood, so watch yo’ door lockKick that ***** in, roll in yo’ shit, take everything and then roll outThat was ’94, I was hiding out, homicide was trying to find meAin’t that a *****, now I got my whole city and state behind meI’m cool as a popsicle, in the freezer, in the winter timeBut I’m a damn fool and a half about respect, so give me mineUhhh, so when they lay me in my holeThey gon’ say that was a man right there homie, I put that on my soul[Hook]I ain’t never been a ***** or don’t know how to be a hoeOnly thing I know how to do is go get the doughThe cheese, the bread, the feria, lucciHoe I just want what’s in your purse, you can keep the cuchiI ain’t never been a ***** or don’t know how to be a hoeOnly thing I know how to do is go get the dough, HeyyEven if they kill me I ain’t going no whereTurn 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 penitentiaryApple sauce and yellow grits, that ain’t breakfastT-bone steak and eggs back in Screwed Up TexasAin’t a thang change, everything still the sameHaters still hate the gangbangers still bangBut we still ***** with it, lil’ body that’s makin’ changeSnitches still need a record deal cuz they still sangYou ain’t no woman, you a ***** to meAnd a friend, still ain’t shit to meEverytime I make a hundred thousand dollars, here they comeIf I’m doing bad, they the ones I don’t here fromY’all niggas ain’t real like Hawk and ScrewAnd since y’all ain’t them, y’all the ones I’m talkin’ tooY’all niggas ain’t shit, y’all pussies and some titsBut got the nerve to say you a blood or a cripFirst one to set trip, but the first one to runOwn six or seven guns, but you never shot oneI praise towards the sun everyday before I’m doneWhen it rain on me it ain’t water, its money by the tonI’m only one man with an Earth worth of foesThey hate me in the hood, in public and at my showsIf looks can kill I die when they ride byBut ask them why they hate me and they don’t know whySend a playa through hell and back, then they sent me to prisonBut check me out homie I’m free and I’m still livin’So many women and men don’t want me to winI got God, that’s why they bullets can’t break my skinRoll foreign in the winter, American in the springAny other time a playa, stretch Hummer limousineWhether you see me in person, or in a magazineI keep bags of purple, ain’t no mo’ bags of greenI’m white t-shirt, white wands and blue jeansThe MVP and the only player on my teamThe female scream cuz I’m the man of they dreamsI’m represented by my piece, chain, watch and my ringYea I’m on the radio, yea I’m on the televisionBut never sellin’ my soul is the most important missionNo mo’ whippin chickens up in the kitchen, nigga pleaseIf I ain’t pimpin my *****es, then I must be over seasI drop a lot of CD’s, that’s how I make cheeseSo much ice in my mouth, my breath is a cool breezePardon my rainbow, a playa just had to sneezeMy game tight 360 degreesI ain’t a fresh prince, I’m a mutha*****in’ kingThis ain’t a pistol, this is a mutha*****in’ machine50 caliber brown, and this is something you never seenBig enough to hit when it miss, and it don’t need a beamI shake a lot of hands, walk across a lot of stagesMy signature at the bottom of a lot of pagesEven without a diamond I still shine brightAnd I hog the lime light, that’s because I rhyme tightKush keep my mind right, cuz I stress so badSometimes I lose my temper and get so madBut a voice say, “Ro, focus and get yo’ cash”You wanna know if I do that, you better bet yo’ ass, BEOTCHH!!!
