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Block Bleeder
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Z-Ro
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1
(*talking*)
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Z-Ro the Crooked, 2K motherfucking 1
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This for all my motherfucking block bleeders
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Fuck 9 to 5, know I'm saying
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I'm talking to the niggas that gon survive
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The motherfucking nine, nickels and dimes
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Stracks, fifty pack, feel that, nigga get your paper
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[Den Den]
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Got me pissed off frustrated, you know you outta line
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Plus I'm trying to count you getting high, off this Alabama tie
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Falling short of my plans, so my anger is rising
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Let me take out I-10, while my pressure is climbing
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I can't mind on drank, so I'm in another mode
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Moving way too fast, down this one way road
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Let me catch my snap, before I roll another crap
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And regret what I done, I been really shaft
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Its a fact that my block, be hotter than the sun
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You can sco' anything there, from drank to marijuana
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And the corner, is for the stronger heart
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Separate the men from the boys, and the weak from the smart
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And apart, from all these hoe ass laws
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Its a 24 no tolerance, for those that crawl
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Through my block, you might get your busted
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Dick in the dust, for fucking with us on my block
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[Chorus]
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Block bleeder, surviving in the game
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I wanna live righteous, but I need to stack change
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I know I'm going through it, but I gotta maintain
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Block bleeder, surviving in the game
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My block is on fire, and I'm addicted to the flame
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Stain after stain, know what I'm talking mayn
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[Z-Ro]
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Judge me not, on what you see, nigga
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Don't you realize, this life of mine is killing me
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Straight from a Christian, to a heartless killa
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Innocent child raised by the guerillas
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Military minded, plus I'm starving for scrilla
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Affiliated with killas, that shermed out and tooted
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But we don't know no better, paper's got our mind polluted
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I repent for my sins, cause I know my number's coming up
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I'm paranoid my nigga, don't be running up
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Whether friends or foe, I really don't know
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That's why I'm warning you Ro, you need to just
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Back up a ski taste, or I'll be tagging your toe
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Since these punk ass individuals, drag my name through the mud
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I ain't got nothing to say to niggas, unless they after the bud
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Pumping pack after pack, barley missing a platinum plack
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HPD be on a nigga with no slack, I want executive money
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The CEA, Chief Executive Artist, instead of 36 ounces
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Pistol grip and a cartridge, a block bleeder
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[Chorus]
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[Z-Ro]
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The block is hot as a clinic, but its profession to me
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And like Juve I'm posted up, so I can watch for the sweet
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I've been less fortunate, and had to hustle all my life
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Listening to people say, its gon be alright all my life
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I even got a lady that's been faithful, all my life
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She's still my gavel, cause I can't afford to call her my wife
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I should be thankful that Dennison Dre, done gave me some help
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But I'm depending on grown men, and I'm a grown man myself
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Feeling lesser than nothing, and barely fucking with zones
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Its like an obstacle course of dynamite, under every corner
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I bob and weave through the hard time, my life is pain
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From struggle where niggas fired, the reason that I record mine
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Infrared, nigga you better protect your head
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On my block when we kill eachother, no tears get shed
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You take a front from a nigga, you better be quick to pay up
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Bring his feddy back on time, or he'll be quick to spray ya
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Twenty Fo' seven packing a Mac 11, on my turf
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Running away from the police, chunking evidence like a Nurf
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I'd rather sell my own records, Chief Executive Artist
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Instead of 36 ounces pistol grip and a cartridge, a block bleeder
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[Chorus]
Z-Ro & Boosie Badazz - Go Away (Music Vi...
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