Doing Just Fine - Z-Ro

They say success is the best revenge

That’s the reason I’m always on my grind

I promise to God, I ain’t got no paper to lend

Ya’ll motherfuckers must be out ya’ll mind

And I don’t really give a fuck if you be family or friend

I ain’t giving up one God damn dime

I’m leaving all you bitches behind

I’m leaving all you bitches behind, that’s right

Z-Ro the Crooked, King of the Ghetto, and the Mo City Don

That’s a hell of a man

And he ain’t trying to buy no wolf tickets either homie

So ain’t no use in selling em man

You damn right a hell of a hustle ain’t gon get you nothing but some hell of a

grands

No feeling like money in my hand

Money over bitches I know you understand, that’s right

I’m doing just fine, homie I don’t need no help

Especially when it comes to spending my wealth

I’m doing just fine, I’m one deep because I love myself

Envy and jealousy is bad for my health

I’m doing just fine, without you in my life

I don’t need you in my life, I don’t want you in my life

All I want, is the cash

All of ya’ll can kiss my ass

I’m still a gangsta, pussy niggaz better stay up out my way

Frown on my face I’m holding my H.K.

Handling bidness digging ditches everyday hey

Still a gangsta, pussy niggaz better stay up out my way

And I’m a be a real nigga til I’m old and grey

And the whole world wanna know just what I’ve got to say

S.U.C., until I D-I-E

That’s all I ever will be

I’m a keep holding it down, and doing this damn thing for my town

None of you bitches ain’t gotta come around

And it’s gon be like that till I’m in the ground that’s right

I use to have a love jones for this chick named Lisa

Now my love jones is for the Mastercard or the Visa

Ain’t no love in my heart, homie it’s col' like Keisha

Nine ounces in the door panel, a couple of mo' in the speaker

I get a ticket down in Texas, ain’t gon give em a reason

To put me in jail it’s even, and gone a couple of seasons

I’m trying to stack my paper taller than a great dane

Joseph Wayne McVey ain’t saving no bitches, cause he ain’t got a cape mayn

Bitch, you ain’t smoking my weed for free

And don’t offer me none of your raggedy booty, that ain’t nothing to me

And while ya’ll getting-getting some head, I’m getting-getting some bread

And while ya’ll fellas relaxing, I’ll be getting-getting ahead

Screwed Up Click until I die

Mayn I’m so high, I don’t think I can drive

That’s why I’m riding shotgun, with my shotgun

One nigga disrepect, and get your whole block done, done

Ha-ha, King of the Ghetto Entertainment

(Yeah, not on me) Rap-A-Lot Records in this bitch

(In my life), what it do Big Chief

What up J, what up all my niggaz in Mo City

We on our motherfucking own nigga, you know I’m saying

The down South shit nigga, Screwston Texas nigga (ay)

Al-motherfucking-ready (ay), heavy like a '57 Cheve (ayyyyaaaay)

Already going down country tunes, R.I.P.

Pimp

Still going down in the South, bitch yeah