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Friends (2)
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Z-Ro
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King of the motherf**king Ghetto, yeah This one right here, goes out to my real n***a Nate My n***a Grey-D, out that Pud Park Ride or die n***a, you know I'm saying It's me and you, till the grave homie uh I use to kick it with the people, I thought were friends There was no envy or jealousy, cause ain't nobody have no ends But only time would tell, true character traits Cause the n***as I figured to be real, turned out fake I rеmember we smokеd sherms, just to pass the time Going hard as we did, no wonder some of us lost our mind Cause you can't think straight, on that good gorilla p*ss Especially by yourself, smoking five or six Formaldehyde takes over the mind, can't you understand If your partna go to tripping, remember he still your man Heard my friend, pulled a pistol on my friend in the hood Sobered up and apologized, 'sposed to been all good Chilling all together again, walking side by side Mr. Walker shot Mr. McCarly, bout eight or nine times I ain't tripping, cause my n***a'z living better yet he's blessed Half a calf muscle missing, shot everywhere but the neck And the head but still breathing, what a story to tell Now I get to see Mr. Walker, in Mr. State Jail How the hell I'ma kick it with you n***a, you shot my G With a friend like you, we don't need enemies Trying to fall out of place, to explain his case None of my cellies could feel it, that's why they violated your face Tried to beef for me in the chow line, snuck up on me Cause I ride for Grey-D, like he's my one and only homie This is organized crime, when you f**k with me Better prepare to tip toe, when you touch the streets Hey, I'm not a killer but don't rush me Cause I got a couple hundred motherf**kers, that won't let nobody touch me I'm the Don now, but I remember the past Ridgemont hardheads ride or die for eachother, quick to blast Now it's come to this, all I ever wanted was peace Never thought it be one of my own, trying to see me deceased On top of that, when you balling you got too many friends If it ain't no cheese they leave damn, was it me or my ends Even women be getting in, where they fit The love affair is so legit, until you come home and she done split with all your sh*t That's why I'm so cold, towards people I meet Because of something that was done to me, by less than a G But nevertheless, I'll say it again Z-Ro the Crooked know the key to survival, is f**k friends Friends, ain't no mystery why Z-Ro don't have them Friends, ain't too many of em I can really depend on Friends, ain't no mystery why Z-Ro don't have them Friends, they might be the reason for my bloody murder So f**k friends
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