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Z-Ro f Den Den

Block Bleeder

307 3 часа назад

Текст песни Z-Ro f Den Den - Block Bleeder

Z-Ro f Den Den - Block Bleeder слова песни

(*talking*)Z-Ro the Crooked, 2K motherfucking 1This for all my motherfucking block bleedersFuck 9 to 5, know I`m sayingI`m talking to the niggas that gon surviveThe motherfucking nine, nickels and dimesStracks, fifty pack, feel that, nigga get your paper[Den Den]Got me pissed off frustrated, you know you outta linePlus I`m trying to count you getting high, off this Alabama tieFalling short of my plans, so my anger is risingLet me take out I-10, while my pressure is climbingI can`t mind on drank, so I`m in another modeMoving way too fast, down this one way roadLet me catch my snap, before I roll another crapAnd regret what I done, I been really shaftIts a fact that my block, be hotter than the sunYou can sco` anything there, from drank to marijuanaAnd the corner, is for the stronger heartSeparate the men from the boys, and the weak from the smartAnd apart, from all these hoe ass lawsIts a 24 no tolerance, for those that crawlThrough my block, you might get your bustedDick in the dust, for fucking with us on my block[Chorus]Block bleeder, surviving in the gameI wanna live righteous, but I need to stack changeI know I`m going through it, but I gotta maintainBlock bleeder, surviving in the gameMy block is on fire, and I`m addicted to the flameStain after stain, know what I`m talking mayn[Z-Ro]Judge me not, on what you see, niggaDon`t you realize, this life of mine is killing meStraight from a Christian, to a heartless killaInnocent child raised by the guerillasMilitary minded, plus I`m starving for scrillaAffiliated with killas, that shermed out and tootedBut we don`t know no better, paper`s got our mind pollutedI repent for my sins, cause I know my number`s coming upI`m paranoid my nigga, don`t be running upWhether friends or foe, I really don`t knowThat`s why I`m warning you Ro, you need to justBack up a ski taste, or I`ll be tagging your toeSince these punk ass individuals, drag my name through the mudI ain`t got nothing to say to niggas, unless they after the budPumping pack after pack, barley missing a platinum plackHPD be on a nigga with no slack, I want executive moneyThe CEA, Chief Executive Artist, instead of 36 ouncesPistol grip and a cartridge, a block bleeder[Chorus][Z-Ro]The block is hot as a clinic, but its profession to meAnd like Juve I`m posted up, so I can watch for the sweetI`ve been less fortunate, and had to hustle all my lifeListening to people say, its gon be alright all my lifeI even got a lady that`s been faithful, all my lifeShe`s still my gavel, cause I can`t afford to call her my wifeI should be thankful that Dennison Dre, done gave me some helpBut I`m depending on grown men, and I`m a grown man myselfFeeling lesser than nothing, and barely fucking with zonesIts like an obstacle course of dynamite, under every cornerI bob and weave through the hard time, my life is painFrom struggle where niggas fired, the reason that I record mineInfrared, nigga you better protect your headOn my block when we kill eachother, no tears get shedYou take a front from a nigga, you better be quick to pay upBring his feddy back on time, or he`ll be quick to spray yaTwenty Fo` seven packing a Mac 11, on my turfRunning away from the police, chunking evidence like a NurfI`d rather sell my own records, Chief Executive ArtistInstead of 36 ounces pistol grip and a cartridge, a block bleeder[Chorus]

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