Lyrics

Intro: Aww yeah King of the ghetto entertainment nigga That's right Screwed up click for life nigga Ain't nothing change Simple day And I'm motherfucking rich beyond belief Never thought it would be this here nigga And yall niggas hate that shit Talkin bout that nigga Ro' rich He drive a hundred thousand dollar coupes and shit He ain't hungry no motherfucking mo' Yeah So that nigga can't rap no mo' I know that nigga can't freestyle no motherfucking mo' (Freestyle, freestyle, freestyle with the S.U.C) Oh yeah nigga? You really wanna call me out like that Put me to the test That's when I love that shit So I finna give it to yo motherfucking ass know what I'm talkin bout You be the judge Verse: If you ain't a chef What the fuck you in the kitchen cooking fo' If you ain't T Ferris How the fuck you gon' book a show If you went through main event Sam Wethers been took it though Instead of tripping with me that's who you need to be looking fo' I ain't scared of na' nigga Go to war with air nigga Get rich or die trying to get rich is the plan nigga My life and all night and all day paper chase homie Fuck rapping that ratchet be really tuck in my waist homie Fuck loosing my life ima take that murder case homie Im alive plus living 200 dollar steaks homie Fuck a lunchable 3 swallows and it's over with You can't be a soldier you half a man you supposed to quit You a hoe bitch and half of another hoe one Nigga you in the book club real niggas? You don't know none I'm in the book club too it's a different type of brick Plus your woman love fucking me this a different type of dick When I'm rapping they pay attention this a different type of spit This ain't a skinny jeans anthem naw this a different type of hit Just being honest how I feel about you bitches I'd rather jackoff cuz ain't nothing real about you bitches Unless im pimpin' getting the dollar bill up out you bitches I can honestly go through the next ten years without you bitches Money over yall Most likely ones in the club Money overall, I ain't even walkin' in ya club Till I count it and I make sure it's what it supposed to be Fuck a bodyguard I don't let people get close to me A bitch ass nigga that's what you can't get Zro to be Don't give a fuck about anybody that's Zro to me It been 16 years but it felt like a couple weeks ago Dead from the grave still coming out your speakers though Boxing game invincible I promise you can't see me bro I'm Saturday night live all week my life is a tv show Baby mama she want half of my shit King of the ghetto entertainment Zro ain't got shit yeah Get a job bitch get off of my dick Yo name wrote in permanent marker can't get off of my list It's still slow loud and banging still all in the trunk Buck shots and double lock slugs all in the pump Rap niggas is gay They let men go all in they rump Let a man try to get extra friendly with me ima kill him I'll spindle him dead I promise I got somewhere to send him Swing hard as I can I'm actually trying to put my fist in em' I'm a gangsta baby mad at me because I won't be a square I ain't trying to rub my fingers through her nappy ass hair I ain't trying to take a walk in the park that shit is gay to me Rather get my hustle on that sound like all day to me My volume on low homie I can't hear what you say to me Rich enough to send a rack to everybody that hated me Hold up!