Z-Ro Who Could It Be Lyrics


[Hook - 2x] Who could it be (who could it be) But that M double A-B (but that M double A-B) And we're sho nuff gon shine (and we're sho nuff gon shine) Making everybody lose their mind (everybody losing they mind) [Trae] The same niggaz on the block, wrecking it won't stop We bout to head to the top, cocked dropping the top With glocks ready to box, somebody bout to get dropped Fuck around with the Maab, you fin to get shined out Do you really, wanna fuck around wit us Come out of the trunk, with a AK with us Better watch out for brains, you got a one hitter quitter Nigga we the Southside, H-Town mob figgas Raw niggaz, on the block affiliated with drug dealers Go getters, and a hundred percent thug niggaz You don't wanna step to us, you getting hugged nigga On the microphone with flow, you get drugged nigga You better get somewhere, you can't block the shine I'm ready for any nigga, that wanna get out of line I'll tell you one mo' time, you better respect my mind When a red light shine, go and lay it down W
ho the niggaz that wanna talk down Who the bitch that wanna hate, I'm fin to sweat up they face Me and Doug and Ro, up on a paper chase Trying to get it like a fiend, with a top case In the race we done did that, candy blue In the lap, wearing a black hat fuck that Somebody fin to get done, till everybody be gon And nigga, we number one [Hook - 2x] [Dougie D] I'ma give it to you live, I'ma give it to you raw I ain't even fin to play, with you motherfuckers I'm a motherfucker, that'll be packing a glock Taking em out with red dots, I'm a head busta I'ma Maab out I'ma ride out, no doubt Making motherfuckers slide out, need to hide out Fuck around with the wrong nigga, pull the nine out Leave a motherfucker crispy, burned and fried out Does the Dougie give it out, mmm-hmm Like a nigga be smoking up on, good green fur Fucking em up in the first round, yes sir I'm just so cold, I make a nigga say burr Gripping a round, me and my dogs get bucked With the Lil' Cl'Che, still ready to get crunk We M double A-B, now
little bitch what On a treaty the microphone, we ain't no punk Dougie D so thoed, and they already know The Trae and the J Z-Ro, the By-Bo Got a kin folk raw, that be gripping a gun I got a king folk right, that be dropping a bomb I got a click of motherfuckers, putting words on the run And when you thought it was over, nigga it just begun And when you hear this shit, nigga don't you bump When you feel you ready, nigga then come get some [Hook - 2x] [Cl'Che] Got em all asking, who could it be That Guerilla M double A-B, and C-L-C-H-E The classified lady, sho nuff Watch me shine up on the scene, make em all say their so thoed Sitting back on these hoes, that's trying to out do my flows And all I wanna do is get the key, and open the do' For my Southeastern pros, fuck it let's show em that we could Swang the 4's, I'm on a mission steady trying to get the cream Maab deep, with the KMJ killa team Doing things, making mo' money than you ever seen While you watching me, on your big screen BET or MTV, posters ha
nging at your local grocery Now everybody know me, Cl'Che make you lose your mind Everytime you jam a Maab c.d., the Classified's on your mind Southside I bring it to you live, so please don't underestimate me Or my niggaz Trae, Dougie D and Z-Ro sing the hook for me [Hook - 2x] [Z-Ro] Who could it be, blowing on doja Consuming codeine, cause I'm just a soldier That stays on his grind, chasing that feddy These fellas they ain't ready, they lightweight and I'm heavy The Mo City Don, king of the ghetto I keep dropping bombs, cause I just can't let go I'm thoed in the game, hydro or that do-do Catch Z-Ro in slow-mo, Z-Ro not no hoe thogh I swang and I swerve, like Tony Montana My balls are my word, come down your chimney like Santa And put you to bed, for talking down on a O.G Really though y'all don't know me, I will make you die slowly [Hook - 3x] Lyrics © OBO APRA/AMCOS

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