Z-Ro - Way 2 Fly lyrics
[Z-Ro - Way 2 Fly lyrics]
Im way too fly and way too high
I don’t smoke wet, homie, I am way too dry
Im cooler than a fan in the summer time
You can spend the night with her
If she’s one of mine
Im way too fly and way too high
I don’t want that pussy if it's way too dry
I’m hotter than stove on three seventy five
I put all my trust in that weapon of mine
I’m in a suit I’d rather be in a white tee
So clean dirty niggas wanna fight me
We keep it one hundred is a
Must not a might be
Spend a couple thousand at the bar
That's how they like me
We tip the scales, yeah
They still wanna indict me
So many vehicles it’s hard to
Find the right key ho, I’m the man how the
Fuck you don’t want me?
Difference between being one deep and lonely
Yeah bitch I’m still stomping
In my gator shoes
You can sit still and chill
I ’ma make a major move
If it ain't about money
I got nothing to say to you smile, bitch
Cuz I ain't even charging you to lay with you
Yeah, fourth quarter I’m on the way
What it do mac
Seven hundred dollars just to tell
Me what it do back i was in that blue-blue
He was in that blue-black
Pharmacy in the car - but
Ya’ll already knew that
Good weed, good drank, big money, man
Big money bracelet, big money chain
And a real hoe love when big money rain
Lil wayne
That’s my homie I am big money wayne
Forget about the jokester like that
I ain’t in the studio
I’m in the kitchen whipping crack
Hold up, i’m young enough for young broads
To wonder where Z-Ro at
On the other hand I’m
Throwback like Bobby Womack
Just left the kush man, already gotta go back
Twenty minutes later, "Kush Man
Where my smoke at?"
Uh, I’m pimp C up in this mother fucker
Bet ain't nobody gon' pimp me
Up in this mother fucker
I don’t even need a key
Up in this mother fucker if you ain’t real
You ain’t gon' be up in this mother fucker
Corey Mo on the track, your head bobbing
Huh? Ya’ll lucky I rap
If not I’d probably be robbing ya
Ho, you wanna leave? I ain’t stopping ya
I don’t like ya anyway
That’s why a rider never been on top of ya
I don’t smoke wet, homie, I am way too dry
Im cooler than a fan in the summer time
You can spend the night with her
If she’s one of mine
Im way too fly and way too high
I don’t want that pussy if it's way too dry
I’m hotter than stove on three seventy five
I put all my trust in that weapon of mine
I’m in a suit I’d rather be in a white tee
So clean dirty niggas wanna fight me
We keep it one hundred is a
Must not a might be
Spend a couple thousand at the bar
That's how they like me
We tip the scales, yeah
They still wanna indict me
So many vehicles it’s hard to
Find the right key ho, I’m the man how the
Fuck you don’t want me?
Difference between being one deep and lonely
Yeah bitch I’m still stomping
In my gator shoes
You can sit still and chill
I ’ma make a major move
If it ain't about money
I got nothing to say to you smile, bitch
Cuz I ain't even charging you to lay with you
Yeah, fourth quarter I’m on the way
What it do mac
Seven hundred dollars just to tell
Me what it do back i was in that blue-blue
He was in that blue-black
Pharmacy in the car - but
Ya’ll already knew that
Good weed, good drank, big money, man
Big money bracelet, big money chain
And a real hoe love when big money rain
Lil wayne
That’s my homie I am big money wayne
Forget about the jokester like that
I ain’t in the studio
I’m in the kitchen whipping crack
Hold up, i’m young enough for young broads
To wonder where Z-Ro at
On the other hand I’m
Throwback like Bobby Womack
Just left the kush man, already gotta go back
Twenty minutes later, "Kush Man
Where my smoke at?"
Uh, I’m pimp C up in this mother fucker
Bet ain't nobody gon' pimp me
Up in this mother fucker
I don’t even need a key
Up in this mother fucker if you ain’t real
You ain’t gon' be up in this mother fucker
Corey Mo on the track, your head bobbing
Huh? Ya’ll lucky I rap
If not I’d probably be robbing ya
Ho, you wanna leave? I ain’t stopping ya
I don’t like ya anyway
That’s why a rider never been on top of ya