Z-Ro - Doing Just Fine lyrics

Uh they say success, is the best revenge
That's the reason I'm always on my grind
I promise to God
I ain't got no paper to lend
Ya'll motherfuckers, must be out ya'll mind
And I don't really give a fuck
If you be family or friend
I ain't giving up one god damn dime
I'm leaving all you bitches behind
I'm leaving all you bitches behind
That's right
Z-Ro the Crooked, King of the Ghetto
And the Mo City Don that's a hell of a man
And he ain't trying to buy
No wolf tickets either homie
So ain't no use in selling em man
You damn right
A hell of a hustle ain't got get you
Nothing but some hell of a grands
No feeling like money in my hand
Money over bitches I know you understand
That's right

I'm doing just fine
Homie I don't need no help
Especially when it comes
To spending my wealth i'm doing just fine
I'm one deep because I love myself
Envy and jealousy, is bad for my health
I'm doing just fine, without you in my life
I don't need you in my life
I don't want you in my life
All I want is the cash
All of ya'll can kiss my ass

I'm still a gangsta
Pussy niggas better stay up out my way
Frown on my face, I'm holding my HK
Handling bidness
Digging ditches everyday hey
Still a gangsta
Pussy niggas better stay up out my way
And I'ma be a real nigga
Until I'm old and grey
And the whole world wanna know
Just what I've got to say sUC, until I D-IE
That's all I, ever will be
I'ma keep holding it down
And doing this damn thing for my town
None of you bitches, ain't gotta come around
And it's gon be like that
Till I'm in the ground that's right

I use to have a love jones
For this chick named Lisa now my love jones
Is for the Mastercard or the Visa
Ain't no love in my heart
Homie it's Cole like Keisha
Nine ounces in the door panel
A couple of mo' in the speaker
I get a ticket down in Texas
Ain't gon give em a reason
To put me in jail it's even
And gone a couple of seasons
I'm trying to stack my paper taller
Than a great dane
Joseph Wayne McVey ain't saving no bitches
Cause he ain't got a cape mayn
Bitch, you ain't smoking my weed for free
And don't offer me none
Of your raggedy booty
That ain't nothing to me
And while ya'll getting-getting some head
I'm getting-getting some bread
And while ya'll fellas relaxing
I'll be getting-getting ahead
Screwed Up Click, until I die
Mayn I'm so high, I don't think I can drive
That's why I'm riding shotgun
With my shotgun one nigga disrepect
And get your whole block done done

Ha ha, King of the Ghetto Entertainment
(yeah, not on me) Rap-A-Lot
Records in this bitch
(in my life) , what it do Big Chief
What up J, what up all my niggas in Mo City
We on our motherfucking own nigga
You know I'm saying
The down South shit nigga
Screwston Texas nigga (ay)
Al-motherfucking-ready (ay) , heavy like a '57 Cheve (ayyyyaaaay)
Already going down country tunes, RIP pimp
Still going down in the South, bitch yeah