K-Rino, Z-Ro - Talkin' Loud lyrics
[K-Rino, Z-Ro - Talkin' Loud lyrics]
But on the mic I make boys bail
They run up in my set tripping
I check 'em like voicemail
Records dropping no promotion
But they manage to sell
My folks want 'em worse
Than boys want naked pictures in jail
I leave you swoll up in a corner
With a ice bag on ya you so brand new
You still got the price tag on ya
You wanna be me
The flow murdering three deep sprayer
It'll never work
Like putting a 8 track in a cd player
I don't bar these Hollywood cats
It's all about me you can't see me
Like a blocked number on a caller ID
You got a entourage
Trust me you could still get smacked
On songs bragging bout pistols
That your homeboys pack
I'm frustrated and I'm broke
But I'm keeping the faith
I wrote my own name on a list
Of the people I hate
And I don't rehabilitate devils
I kill 'em and skate
I ain't gon waste my time
Trying to make a snake fall straight
You must not know, who I am mayn
(I can see it, when I look in your eyes)
Talking loud
But you ain't saying a damn thang
(up in the neighborhood, telling them lies)
When I'm through
You gon remember my damn name
(when I heard the shit, I wasn't surprised)
In my hood, we get it popping like champagne
(You fools
Bout to make my temperature rise yeah)
So many niggas wolf about they boxing game
But then get knocked out
And be the first one back to the car
Before the gunman could squeeze
Some shots out why they always mean mugging
Looking like they gon bring some drama
Hoping the shit hit the fan they run to mama
And the tears smear they eye liner
With they cute ass
But not me I'm quick to knock
Niggas out and shoot fast
Garunteed to knock out socks when
I handle the rock
And give a nigga hoop flash
And if you ain't one deep
Fuck around and put hands on
Your whole group ass
Then see how many weak rhymes
Your ass can get bruised up and toothless
I'll do this to a nigga
I'll do this to a bitch
Long as it's done on pen and paper
To help the person that's saying he get rich
But in real life I caught cases
For stitching boys faces up real right
And I never earned a dollar for it
But they locked Z-Ro up real tight
I don't pull my pistol out
Unless I'mma empty that bitch
If you don't wanna get hate sent back to ya
Nigga don't send me that shit
And if I say I'm coming to get ya
You might as well go on and pack up
This is permanent punishment
Everytime they act up
Rolling through the hood
With my young homie Z-Ro
The K-IN-G, of the G-H-E double T-O
Showing animosity, at every faker we know
Boys who run they suckers
Get shot like a free throw
South Park Coalition
And the Screwed Up Click
Serving bar is like the law
So lace your shoes up bitch
But won't be no evading arrest
This arrest is for the cardiac
Nigga these grown man guns by X-Box
Y'all still fucking with Atari gats
They steady popping in
Like prostitute panties you drop again
I know lot's of men gossiping
So much they need oxygen
What we do to cappers man
The laws can't even equal
We'll be on your ass
Harder than the child support people
And in case you fellas forgot
It's H Town for life
Taking over the rap game
Disrespect us we'll lay down your line
Depending on where you is on the hit list
You can lay down tonight
So make arrangements for this vacation
And enjoy the flight