The less I fuck with you niggas, the better I feel Don't know no nothin' else what I can be if I wasn't real I borrowed those lines from Plies, that's just how I feel Brass knuckles and a 38 with a beam, that's just how I chill AK-47 and a ski mask, that's how I kill Professional dranka' my nigga, my cup will never spill Where I'm from, the police is the only thing I'll run from Only thang on my mind is money, and what bitch I can get some from I ain't never been a bitch, don't know how to be a hoe Only thing I know how to do is collect my dough So if you owe me money, pay me on time 8-7-tre-4-2-4, death before dishonor on mine Me be a punk, I would have to leave this world for that Matter fact my momma coulda' had a girl for that If I hold my hands a certain when I'm in the courtroom That could guarantee me walkin' out of the courtroom Ain't no other rapper got a set of skills like Ro got I swear I'm half a man and half machine, call me Ro-bot You ain't gotta wonder if Z-Ro gon' ever sell out, Z-Ro not From Greenspoint to Mo-City, Texas, all of that's Ro block Kick door burglars started in my hood, so watch yo' door lock Kick that bitch in, roll in yo' shit, take everything and then roll out That was '94, I was hiding out, homicide was trying to find me Ain't that a bitch, now I got my whole city and state behind me I'm cool as a popsicle, in the freezer, in the winter time But I'm a damn fool and a half about respect, so give me mine Uhhh, so when they lay me in my hole They gon' say that was a man right there homie, I put that on my soul [Hook] I ain't never been a bitch or don't know how to be a hoe Only thing I know how to do is go get the dough The cheese, the bread, the feria, lucci Hoe I just want what's in your purse, you can keep the cuchi I ain't never been a bitch or don't know how to be a hoe Only thing I know how to do is go get the dough, Heyy Even if they kill me I ain't going no where Turn up the volume to the radio, I'll be right there (Ro-Pac) It feels so good to be free, I ain't even thinkin' bout a penitentiary Apple sauce and yellow grits, that ain't breakfast T-bone steak and eggs back in Screwed Up Texas Ain't a thang change, everything still the same Haters still hate the gangbangers still bang But we still fuck with it, lil' body that's makin' change Snitches still need a record deal cuz they still sang You ain't no woman, you a bitch to me And a friend, still ain't shit to me Everytime I make a hundred thousand dollars, here they come If I'm doing bad, they the ones I don't here from Y'all niggas ain't real like Hawk and Screw And since y'all ain't them, y'all the ones I'm talkin' too Y'all niggas ain't shit, y'all pussies and some tits But got the nerve to say you a blood or a crip First one to set trip, but the first one to run Own six or seven guns, but you never shot one I praise towards the sun everyday before I'm done When it rain on me it ain't water, its money by the ton I'm only one man with an Earth worth of foes They hate me in the hood, in public and at my shows If looks can kill I die when they ride by But ask them why they hate me and they don't know why Send a playa through hell and back, then they sent me to prison But check me out homie I'm free and I'm still livin' So many women and men don't want me to win I got God, that's why they bullets can't break my skin Roll foreign in the winter, American in the spring Any other time a playa, stretch Hummer limousine Whether you see me in person, or in a magazine I keep bags of purple, ain't no mo' bags of green I'm white t-shirt, white wands and blue jeans The MVP and the only player on my team The female scream cuz I'm the man of they dreams I'm represented by my piece, chain, watch and my ring Yea I'm on the radio, yea I'm on the television But never sellin' my soul is the most important mission No mo' whippin chickens up in the kitchen, nigga please If I ain't pimpin my bitches, then I must be over seas I drop a lot of CD's, that's how I make cheese So much ice in my mouth, my breath is a cool breeze Pardon my rainbow, a playa just had to sneeze My game tight 360 degrees I ain't a fresh prince, I'm a muthafuckin' king This ain't a pistol, this is a muthafuckin' machine 50 caliber brown, and this is something you never seen Big enough to hit when it miss, and it don't need a beam I shake a lot of hands, walk across a lot of stages My signature at the bottom of a lot of pages Even without a diamond I still shine bright And I hog the lime light, that's because I rhyme tight Kush keep my mind right, cuz I stress so bad Sometimes I lose my temper and get so mad But a voice say, "Ro, focus and get yo' cash" You wanna know if I do that, you better bet yo' ass, BEOTCHH!