We Ain't Trippin' No Mo

[Hook]
 Too many haters, still try to take me off of my game
 See a young playa gripping wood
 Looking good hold up, man we off the chain
 See us coming down, and we're holding
 It's the Z-Ro, Slim Thug and E.S.G.
 We don't give a damn about none of these hoes
 We all about our do', we ain't tripping no mo'
 [E.S.G.]
 Armed and dangerous, wanna spit them flows
 Swang with us, if you wanna sit low
 The game of life be shife, better think twice
 Aren't they nice, get killed hoe
 For real though, kick your ass with a steel toe
 What can I say, you niggas gay you need a deal though
 Work my wheels so, twenty three minutes from your town
 Udaville hoe, 23 inches from the ground
 Hold up now look around, playboy you don't want no drama
 Off the chain and untamed, orangatangs out the jungle
 Make the loudest nigga mumble, baller blockers can't stop this
 Wanna throw me out the game, like my name Rasheed Wallace
 Hold up, blow the whistle that's a tech
 We got home court advantage, this year we bout to wreck
 Hit up nigga sets, snap they neck
 Take to the chest, trying to fuck with the best
 Invisible set, baguettes, Rolex when I flex in the Lex with the big S-S
 Now who's next, you gon understand it
 Back in the tour van, with Jennifer Lopez panties in my hand ha
 [Hook]
 [Z-Ro]
 Z-Ro the Mo City Don, bigger my bricks and profits
 It's evident that I'm a President to the game, you can't baller block it
 You can't block my ball, when I get a flick a screen gon fall
 Give me fo' corners, and I punish em all
 Never gon fall off, when I haul off in the L dog
 My block my bread and butter, keeping my pockets nice and thick
 Whether be solid or whether be soft, the game ain't never been known to quit
 We went from riches to rags, rags to riches, while maintaining
 Composure rock and witness these fellas, as they was switching
 Investing in plenty bars and stocks, still got money coming out the block
 I scheme to plot to the cream of the crop, fuck a bitch we gon leave a bald spot
 They trying to take me off my game, wanna see me not having thangs
 Mo City Texas Ridegmont mayn, killa codeine and mary jane
 Over the plate it's time to bat, it's out of the park I told you that
 Lucky Al Gore couldn't hold it back, now I gotta calm down with a doja sack
 Z-Ro, Slim Thug and E.S.G., we in it to win
 Mechanical gorgeous everytime our records spin, Mr. Hater
 [Hook]
 [Slim Thug]
 I feel like in real life, they thinking I'm Santa Clause
 I hide from mo' hoes and mo' foes, than I hide from the laws
 They in my face with no pause, steady trying to make a G fall
 Like Tupac fuck all y'all, cause I need my cash tall
 Trying to hate on mine you outta line, I shine because I grind
 I keep that money up on my mind, for the umpteenth time
 When I write a rhyme I rhyme real, and getting green is what I feel
 A five figga nigga that want a mill, before my record deal
 Still trying to get it, I hustle and can't quit it
 My target in range, is up to me to aim and hit it
 Boy forget it, if you think I'm falling off of my game
 You off the chain, you must of fell and lost your brain
 I maintain and look good, and grip wood through my hood
 Fuck a hoe I'm bout my do', let's keep it understood
 While these haters falling off, I'ma be falling in
 Big falling in the Benz, solo fuck friends cause uh
 [Hook]