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Absolutly Correct (Only notes will be sent) Mostly Correct, yet... The lyrics are wrong Very Wrong Not the lyrics to I'M A GANGSTA
Severity is 5
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Lyric Body	(feat. D-Bo) [talking:] What it do, this one for all you hoe ass niggaz You niggaz claim to be down, we been doing this nigga We been out here sliding niggaz, we been out here doing boys Been out here wrecking, you niggaz ain't shit Hoe ass niggaz, make a nigga slide your bitch ass Under a closed do' nigga, you got us fucked up [Z-Ro:] When it get gangsta, I don't see too many niggaz repping they set But in front of these dog ass hoes, they rep it to death There go Z-Ro the Crooked, better put some pep in your step You ain't got enough insurance, to get yourself in a wreck I put a cease on all breathing, when I squeeze my weapon Better hope God cut for ya, cause you gon need that blessing Somebody save him, it's gon take all of his homies to help him And if he run, it ain't gon take but three of these to catch him I'm dedicated to the delivery, of a Smith & Wesson While keeping it under cover, to keep authorities guessing Who did it when it happened, real niggaz don't make a scene Bitch niggaz publicize it, and end up with ten to fifteen Talking about how they done crept up, on a nigga from the blind Couldn't even acknowledge they presence, they cowards in my eye Right before I merk me a nigga, he don't know who hit him Before I pull the trigger, I let him see my face and then I send him [Hook:] I'm a gangsta, pussy niggaz better stay up out my way Frown on my face, I'm holding my AK Handling bidness, digging ditches everyday hey I'm a gangsta, pussy niggaz better stay up out my way I'ma be checking niggaz, till I'm old and grey Serious bidness, that nigga Z-Ro he don't play hey [Z-Ro:] Ever since I was a youngster, bagging them grams up I've seen so many times, in the back of the squad car in them handcuffs Playing for a blue van, cause if it's red nigga that's FED I guess it's back to drank and pretties, and eating at Jack Mack's Red But I'd rather be free, up in the streets collecting money From weed to drank, a long currensy just like Bun B There go the the laws my nigga, don't let em see you hit the weed Cause we get more than a misdemeanor, for assault rifles and cheese Yeah I'm rapping motherfucker, but I'm still on the block Just cause you see me on the T.V., don't mean I stopped punching the clock That's fa sho money, I ain't seen a royalty yet but I get show money By any means necessary, Z-Ro gotta get some mo' money Now cheuffer's open up do's for me, it's just like Burger King Motherfuckers love my rap and got hypnotized, the first time they heard me sing That's why I'm able to purchase Afghanic by the pound, and a lot of drank And to y'all jackers this ain't a glock bitch, when it pop it's out of tank [Hook] [Z-Ro:] These days, I roll alone it's just my heater with me Fuck all of these females, my heavleck is my main hoe so I keep her with me Everytime she speaks, she leave bloody white sheets And I got a rambo knife, sharp enough to cut straight to the white meat Make me use it on ya, take it out take a breather then reuse it on ya It's on you I could murder your ass, or drop some murder music on ya And fuck that Hollywood shit, I'm from the corner Newport Short box, and a cup of coedine fuck a Corona I'ma be grooving it, till the world stop moving y'all know what that mean C walking in blue and black All-Stars, with blue and black strings A short sleeve Dickie top, with the bulletproof up underneath Den Den you ain't no Crip nigga you's a bitch, cause you won't come to me Talk that shit in my face, you been talking behind my back I'm so confident that I'ma beat your ass, I ain't gotta be behind my strap To that nigga Killa Kyleon, stay in your place If I wanted to get you, I'd send bitches with razors to play in your face [Hook x2]
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