Z-Ro Still Hood, Still Paid, Still Throwed, Still Gangsta Still a G, don't play me cause you'll see Asshole By Nature Z-Ro Uh I couldn't afford lobster, I couldn't afford steak So a three piece chicken wing dinner that's what I ate Most friends were broke, only a couple had cake Sleepin outside, I had no where to take my dates Walkin around everyday in the same ole clothes Seein the same ole niggas, and the same ole hoes Strippers at the club dancin on the same ole poles Drug dealers tryna get you to cocaine yo nose Police raided the block, everyday at the same time Tryna catch us and cuff us for comittin the same crime But we had us a vison like Jordan with Hang Time Tryna make a million dollars off of nickels and dimes Brotha that was eleven years ago and I'm still grindin Straight up out of the ruff, I ain't nothin but a diamond Use to do it for free now I'm paid for my rhymin' The money too good I ain't thinkin about retirin' Trae I am the street dreams, still reppin for the south But that wait until you get then they run up in yo house Twenty four hours a day they forever runnin they mouth Haters on dick but I'd rather run it in they spouse It ain't hard to understand I'm on a different type of mission Bein broke ain't even a option bitch I gotta glissen I starved back then ain't nobody wanna listen And that was way before I even had a pot to piss in But what a nigga know I put the hood in the view Now they greet me with the H everytime I come through That's just out of respect cause I represent the realer I been a G all of my life and never act brand new Ain't no limit to the hustle cause I want it full time I use to get head, now I want the full shine Tryna make it to the top'll be my reason for rhyme In the gutta guarantee me I'm a get it this time Z-Ro Z-Ro My ass got Crown Holder jeans, my chest got Evisu, and my feet got Gator But don't get it twisted, and play me for weak I just wanna look good when I'm walkin over all ya'll haters When I was on lock my nigga Trae was takin over this bitch And when I came home we connected like the internet Bitch I'm a veteran, I been around every since the beginnin I've done a hell of alot but I'm not finished yet I want a plaque but the bootleggers be makin it hard to do Keep sellin this shit bitch we gon maab on you My attitude is rude, I never gave a fuck and I never will Maan I'm just tryna pay my bills, hol'up Pimp C, P.A.trill nigga - polo fuck that Hilfiger Rest In Peace I'm a see you when I get there bro Even though you in the grave my nigga you still throwed Trae When it come to bein hood, hell yeah I'm in the zone Never walk in nothin less then eight pools and a home I'm the truth fuh real and ain't just in a song Got e'm lookin at these hoes like they never seen chrome When they pick up in the trunk it's a hundred percent slow So throwed and you know Mr.Mcvey is so blowed I'm cool but the whip wanna pose Yeah the trunk got a mind of it's own all I do is let it glow It's the king of the streets, and the king of the ghetto Middle finger in the air when I wanna say hello Call me what ya want I use to chase after hoes Now they chasin after me till they break they stilettos I'm still hood, still gangsta - A.B.N is on the top haters I'm a thank ya Plus everywhere you go you gotta deal with us like it or not Cause in the streets - or the rap we gon'out rank ya (Till End)