Текст Z–Ro – Creepin’

Hook x2
Creeping, with the sawed off
In a rage, bo’gaurd blowing niggaz balls off
I’m the reaper, touching fellas on they lifeline

Z-Ro
Creeping with my automatic, running round
Laying motherfuckers down, straight up causing havoc any day
I done gone insane in the brain, motherfuckers in my face
Claiming that I owe them something mayn, don’t let me catch no case
I don’t really give a damn about nothing, but my Nina and my sawed off
You can call me Deadly Head, cause I’m blowing they balls off
Anybody bitch nigga don’t test me, move across your jaw like a jet ski
Quick jab (opening up like), Big Sab aw naw
Pulling a gun on all y’all, disrespect me and fall down
This here my neck of the woods, where you gon go who you gon call now
Military minded, I’s a motherfucking soldier
And I don’t need nothing, but murder music and doja

Hook x2

Cl’Che
Right now I got the shit, that’ll blow your balls off
And all this hating talking down, make a bitch wanna snatch your tongue out
I’m creepin with the sawed off, creepin on hoes and careful what they tal’n bout
I’m hitting the industry with tricks, magicians can’t figure out, uh-huh
I’m from the South, I’m breaking these bitches off
Making the news with headlines, she’s dangerous and she’s out
In your tape deck, these motherfuckers been duty click and rest
I’m touching hoes on they lifeline, now they can’t pass my check
That’s why I’m creeping with my nigga, Z-Ro a dirt dirty killa
You heard them guerillas, we hurt you to make you feel us

Hook x2

Z-Ro
Ain’t no running to the trunk, I got my pistol on me
Cause ain’t no telling when a bitch nigga, try to tun up on me
I’m coming after your camp, me and my O.G. Darrel Burton
Thirty odd beam on the drive card, that there gon have em hurting
In need of medical attention, lifting up motherfuckers like I’m bench pressing
Put everybody to bed, write S.U.C. on the wall and then I’m ditching
Out the do’, firing it up with B.J. and Fo’
Nickel and D slide in the do’, that nigga there my nigga heart Lil’ Ro
Picking me bitch I’m a real one, it’s gonna be hard to be takin me off the map
Determine the real ones from the fake ones, by the way they give me dap
Beg your pardon, if you didn’t know I’m a soldier
Military minded, clicking with the sawed off murder music and doja

Hook x2

Z-Ro
Creeping deep, see how we rough in the Houston streets
Me keep me sawed off, right next to me
Watching a set of bitches, show they breasts to me
With M.O.E., that be Money Over Everything
Bet I could hit a home run, nigga let me swing
Swinging wide, with me sawed off shotgun
And when I pull it, that’s to show you that I got one