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Z-RO lyrics : "Keep It 100"

(Intro)
Chicky check, microphone check
One, chicky check, microphone check

Two, chicky check, microphone check

(Verse)

Stone up cause I'm grown up (you stone up)
Stress that work-out just to see how it tone up
Block for block, in the city we got it sown up

Spit so much heat on the beat that we'll $#&@ yo song up
Some people act like we already dun' blown up
Cause we said so many trends, we can't do nuttin' than own up

Stoner, drop arenas are open to domer
On that candy coupe cat
Soon as I put that chromer

Hey, one time for the mutha$#&@in' south
Two times for the mutha$#&@in' north
Three time for my mutha$#&@in' cold

Ten times for the Tom Cruise, as I crack the ceiling
Tear that mutha$#&@a off
Keep some bad breezes with me, with the mutha$#&@in' mouth

So sweet, she make you skeet before you reach the mutha$#&@in' loft
But $#&@ ^!$$%s, I don't believe in $#&@in' friends
I believe in hunid tabs and hunids

In fact, stacks that come in twins
You roach $$#, just hopped off the porch $$# ^!$$%s
It's first class, you ain't even coach class ^!$$%s

Sometimes I sit and think of all the people I heal
And all the illegals I dealt
And I pray for forgiveness cause I know that I cheated myself

And know not a play to keeps for myself
Yea yea, it's god first, family and money
She say she loves me, I tell 'er, you can't handle me, honey

Still, gimme yo number and I might $#&@ ya later
Cause (*##$, I'm the bomb, like Al Quaeda


(Hook x2)
I keep it 100 in these crooked $$# streets
I'm never caught sleep and I keep my pistol within reach

My mind on my money, not a woman in my sheets
I ain't tryna be rich, makin' sure my children eat


(Verse)
Now I ain't got as many followers as Wayne got
I spit that hot water, I make it rain hot

What's an umbrella to an acid lava rain drop?
Ninehunind degrees, but the sun ain't neva came up
Thirty six of 'em and the yay twenty weigh

Make sure that my Lexus tied tight
I'm about the interstate state
Can't arrest me cause you can't find the work, it's in a safe place

Got so much ghetto love, I think I can penetrate hate
Robert Hill Davis comin' out my speakers, it's so clear
Can't afford what's in my style-ophone, what's yo deal?

Cause I done lean so good, man, I dun' went to sleep in Mo' City
But I woke up in another hood
Stay on my grind until I shine, hommie that's what I do best

Used to get bags of money, but now, you damn right I do checks
I got a brother named Mickey
Original screw up, click member just like me

He doin' time, but in a few days they gon' let Mike free
And we gon' get us a mean hot from a nice tree
Meanwhile I'm rollin' fours, bangin' on the block

Ass out like a quire outside, singin' on the block
They call me Mr. Hit, so amazing on the block
No coco butter to a Caucasian on the block

I'm most the ? your finest, call me yo highness
The law behind us, he don't mind us
That's one of my drivers

I'm well connected
Talk dirty behind my back, but in my face I'm well respected
Got guns on top of guns on top of guns, well protected


(Hook x2)
I keep it 100 in these crooked $$# streets

I'm never caught sleep and I keep my pistol within reach
My mind on my money, not a woman in my sheets
I ain't tryna be rich, makin' sure my children eat

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