Lyrics:

Uh, homie you on't really want me to shine
Like Boston George ain't wanna give up his f'neck to Diego
I'm the type of nigga dat's gonna come up, want me to stay low
The day I leave this bitch in a body bag is what you pray fo
When I'm still livin and y'all hatas get mo mad with every breath I take
Sometime I might spill a nigga but J Prince clean up every mess I make
Some like my quicker picker upper thats ma bounty nigga
Ma piss durty but I ain't smoke but just weed in ma brownie nigga
You don wan run with me I'm ridin with that big gun
Ma fifty caliber shoot so far I call that bitch my vince young
If it's really time to murk you homie
I ain't gonna need a rehearsal homie
Cuz it ain't gonna be a commercial homie
Sex money and murda homie
Call me Vince Young homie I got quarterback vision
I can see the five o's when they blitzin
I see stick up kids targetin Z-Ro for tha stickin
So it's pistols in every room, every bathroom and both kitchens
You better go long homie, cuz you know I throw long homie
But you don't wanna catch this pass
Touchdown for the S-U-C we Soldiers United for Cash
Touchdown like Reggie Bush on a break away
Who gon catch my ass, I don't know nobody that fast, woo woo wooo
I'm feelin so Pimp C right now call me ro che
Yeah yo diamonds shine but not like mine homie that's yo bad
And I ain't even a materialistic guy
I don't luuv money but you might think I do cuz I'll murda you if you try to take sum from me
Look at you know you can't even have an open casket you dumb dummy
And I sleep real good every night cuz ain't none of the bullets come from me
So don't make me Floyd Mayweather Junior yo ass
Like I was a hundred forty-seven pounds with an AK-47 rounds, sit down
I'm official like a referee whistle and tougher than bone gristle
Put so much lead in yo ass you could be yo own piencil
Z-Ro The Crook, The King of the Ghetto, yeah homie, that's ma name
And I'm milli as a mothafucka with seventy carats up in my name
Call me Vince Young homie I got quarterback vision
I can see the five o's when they blitzin
I see stick up kids targetin Z-Ro for tha stickin
Do it's pistols in every room
Every bathroom and both kitchens
You better go long homie
Cuz you know I throw long homie
But you don't wanna catch this pass
Touchdown for the S-U-C we Soldiers United for Cash
Touchdown like Reggie Bush on a break away
Who gon catch my ass, I don't know nobody that fast, woo woo wooo
Now I ain't never been to 106 and Park and sat on the couch but I'm a legend in this rappin the South
Achoo, excuse me I'm allergic to bitch-niggas, I'm bitch-niggas intolerant
And ma stomach cramp up whenever I run into bitch-niggas
I'm rollin in ma Kobe Bryant on topa duece McAllister's
I'm always in a fo do but I ain't never got no passengers
Good weed, good drank, big money main, I don't get along with y'all fellas but I get money main
Most of the rappas in ma city wanna see me flop
Cuz when I came back home from jail that's when all they shows stopped
I got quarterback vision I ain't never been set
And I don't walk with fifty niggas either how ya luuudat
Call me Vince Young homie I got quarterback vision
I can see the five o's when they blitzin
I see stick up kids targetin Z-Ro for tha stickin
So it's pistols in every room, every bathroom and both kitchens
You better go long homie, cuz you know I throw long homie
But you don't wanna catch this pass
Touchdown for the S-U-C we Soldiers United for Cash
Touchdown like Reggie Bush on a break away, who gon catch my ass
I don't know nobody that fast, woo woo wooo