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Z-RO lyrics : "Dirty Work"

(feat. Black Mike, Pharoah)

[Z-Ro: talking]

All you sure $$# ^!$$%s out here, got the game $#&@ed up
All this old friendly $$# %#@!, ^!$$%
Ain't nothing friendly about the mother$#&@ing game

You understand me, if you listen I'ma tell you right
Open your mother$#&@ing ears
%#@!, it ain't fair but somebody got to do it, knowI'msaying


[Black Mike]
I came from underground, where my hood resigned

Nothing left but the bad and ugly cause the good done died
We tried laying low ^!$$%s want to cross them lines
So when I'm saying so you getting bumped off this time

$#&@ a throw away, I'm looking for the gun in your house
To kill your family for some %#@! they ain't know nothing about
We running the south, while other ^!$$%s running they mouth

If you smart, you'll take cover cause we come in your route
Cause when we ride you could best believe there's guns in sight
How many times mama cried cause her sons done died

I pull my nine out, all of my barrels are fouled out
So the bullets that I bust the feds don't find out
Which gun, which ^!$$%, which figga points to the trigger man

Still well connected not worried about who's the bigger man
Z-Ro, my ^!$$% man, Pharoah, the Killa Klan
I'm Black Mike, Network for life, ain't no realer jam


[Chorus]
We make sure the dirty work get done

Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton
Scratch makers, ^!$$% we killers
Aggravated guerillas, been pimping in this bicth for scrilla

We make sure the dirty work get done
Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton
Scratch makers, ^!$$% we killers

Putting heads on pillows
$#&@ around and weep like a willow, we cap peelers


[Pharoah]
King shots, killer greed penn, money hard
^!$$% to sleep, murdering a kingpin

My composer, a soldier, you can call me one
When it's time to ride you know I'm ready to activate my gun
Straight head shots, toe tagged in a body bag

And the outcome you stuck with, if I got to blast
I'm coming to get you, pull your punk $$# out the picture
And fix the braids on your head, that means I'ma get richer

P-H-A-R-O-A-H, now you know
My mother$#&@ing name I never play fake
Easy does it, do it easy when I execute

To that ^!$$% and the darkside when my weapon shoot
Shoot again and feel like I just made boy
With no evidence, to be found I remain calm

Murdering edition, I make a mother$#&@er disappear
Slip the clip in, open fire then dripping him


[Chorus]

[Z-Ro]

I put stitches in the general son of a (*##$ ^!$$% when he bump up
Running to the trunk for the pump, I'm already ready to dump
I've been working dirty, knocking busters for being surety

So I'm at your dome cussing like James, you ain't worthy
Like a little old girly perpetrating a man
Dude we taking over this (*##$ and here to demonstrate demands

And (*##$ the down south gangsta R-A-P, 1990
Started with Street Military and K-A-G
We toe tagging, body bagging, sagging and bragging

Weed it up inflate it down, you damn shot and flipped the meat wagon
So save me some son of a guns, when it's over
We one of the ones on the top, haters smell it and running to come

Trying to drop a dime on us, or trying to take us out
After we deal with it we rap about it and then it make us hot
$#&@ your crime rate and murder rate, running up on Houston Texas

Well it be $#&@ y'all for trying to funk us on a burning day

[Chorus x2]

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