Z-Ro - The Mo City Don lyrics

K-IN-G, the Mo City Don
I know you heard about me
And this mission I'm on
But not in R-A-P, I'm just tryna live on
Not in the penitentiary
I'd rather be rolling chrome
In the P-E-N T, my attitude is shown
Cause, I've never been friendly
You should leave me alone
But, if I S-L-IP, and my brains get blown
Just listen at my CD cause I live in my song

I'm just living my life
Not worried about no money or no women and I
Just rolling in something foreign with
My gun at my side smoking designer doja
Hope I don't run into one time
No particular destination
I just want to roam don't want to talk
I left all of my cellphones at home
All I need is fifteen pounds
Of leave me alone
Cause ain't nobody on this level I'm on
And all I see is murder, murder
My mind state preoccupied with homicide
Tryna survive through this crime rate
Most of my homies hustle for big bucks
But blow it on bullshit
Then start complaining about how
They can't come up
Association brings about simulation
You know what that mean?
Meet with a fiend and you too
Will become a dope fiend
The same thang goes for crooks and thieves
I'm not getting arrested again to
Give a lawyer my cheese

I'm covered in diamonds and gold
Try to take 'em away from me
I'll leave your body so swole
What I'm rolling is big enough to
Blow a hole in your soul
So take this Hen' and hypnotic and
Have a seat by the pole
Instead of killing your ass
I'd rather pour you a glass
I'm tired of being the reason
People under the grass
But, I won't lose sleep if
Hoover murder your ass
I guess you couldn't keep the ghetto pass
Homie when I tell you I'm unjackable
I'm not just talking shit
I got guerillas everywhere
Be careful who you walking with
But, I'm an equal opportunity lender
I'm not a snob meet me in Mo City and I
Might just give you a job
Cause, I'm looking for a few good men
Tryna expand my operation
I've been local long enough
Time to go nation
Making the transition from the
Streets to the fame a couple clubs
Gas stations and hotels in my name

I can do bad one deep
I wish I could flip in a
Bentley coupe with just one seat
A box of Carnival Cigarillo
And just one freak
And if I fall off before I ask for help
I'll leave lunch meat
I wear my pride on my shoulders
And my heart on my sleeve
With the knowledge and understanding
At three-sixty degrees
Ninety-five, the five P-E-R-C-E-N T
Only a few real niggas but so many wannabe
Hell yeah
I've read the Holy Qur'an and the Good Book
Both of them investigated
Give all clues and good look
And a real king don't have to
Wear his crown to rule
You know book sense without common
Sense is a damn fool