Z-Ro – Creepin

Lyrics Creepin – Z-Ro

[Chorus: x2]
Creeping, with the sawed off
In a rage, bo’guard blowing niggas balls off
I’m the reaper, touching fellas on they lifeline
Ain’t no running to the trunk, I got my pistol right now

[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 man, 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 no
Pulling a gun on all why’all, disrespect me and fall down
This here my neck of the woods, where you goin’ go who you goin’ call now
Military minded, I’s a motherfucking soldier
And I don’t need nothing, but murder music and doja

[Chorus: x2]

[Cl’Che]
Right now I got the shit, that’ll blow your balls off
And all this hating talking down, make a bitch want to snatch your tongue out
I’m creepin’ with the sawed off, creepin’ on hoes and careful what they talkin’ 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 killer
You heard them guerrillas, we hurt you to make you feel us
Through all this fraud in you, you need to stay away
Cause you don’t want to f*ck with Z-Ro and Cl’Che, when we ride now

[Chorus: 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

[Chorus: 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

Written by: Joseph Wayne IV McVey
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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