(Chorus - Z-Ro Repeat 2x)
Still Hood, Still Paid, Still Throwed, Still Gangsta
Still a G, don't play me
Cause you'll see Asshole By Nature
[Verse 1 - Z-Ro]
Uh, couldn't afford lobster, 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 nowhere 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 committin the same crime
But we had us a vision 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 rough, 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'
[Verse 2 - 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 glisten
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 every time I come through
That's just out of respect cause I represent the realer
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'mma get it this time
Still Hood, Still Paid, Still Throwed, Still Gangsta
Still a G, don't play me
Cause you'll see Asshole By Nature
[Verse 1 - Z-Ro]
Uh, couldn't afford lobster, 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 nowhere 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 committin the same crime
But we had us a vision 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 rough, 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'
[Verse 2 - 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 glisten
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 every time I come through
That's just out of respect cause I represent the realer
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'mma get it this time
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