RayKaz - z a m a r i

Pararararum
(CHU!)
Pararararum
(Yeah-yeah-yeah yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
Pararararum
Woo! Woo! Woo
Yeah! Hoo!
Workin' on the plot
Lay the verse then serve it on the block
Say the word and have 'em murdered on the spot
Paperwork, I'm signin' cursive on the dot
Can't be workin' fliggin' burgers on the job
'Member time when mom was in the jungle
Pen phone buzzin' like the bumble
Long way away from all that gunsmoke
Now I'm at the venue sittin' front row
Watchin' Phori vibin' with a blunt rolled
'Dale nigga, never seen nothing
'Sept a politician team fronting
Bond note have a teen pumping (doo-doo-doo-doo)
Made it out, it gotta mean something
Either I'ma hustle or that nigga Uncle Miz have his army fiends huntin'
263, the scene crumbling (shh-)
Better keep it tucked if y'aint dumping (hoo!)
Pow! Pow! Nigga, she slumping (grrr!)
Talk slick and gotta leave country (hoo!)
Blinds hang, niggas ain't mumbling, hell nah
Zip them lips tied (shh-) - they'ont wan' die
If you photo these locals, grip the toast 'cause you gon' hear a drum ring (brrrrr!)
Big plate copper, we hungry (hmm!)
Mixtape got your queen bumping (heuh!)
Want Heat? Nigga, don't speak - I'm a whole fuckin' Jimmy B dunkin' (hoo!)
kinÄrte the navy and the army (hoo!)
How could you ever try to harm me? (Hoo!)
Kill 'em with the truth, stroll up out the booth
Do the Steph Curry, "Get him off me!" (baaang!)
I'm 'bout to ball out with the zo!
Can't let the salary burn on my own!
We had a traphouse in Vainona, my room was decorated with your hoe!
Stadium brain, she got the Superdome
Had me like "heebie jeebie, baby go!"
Scoop up a fine sweet with the Rover then we gon' drop her off and hit the road
Outta the concrete it was snow, them summers was cooo-oo-oold!
Had to go over and stand on my own
We from the South streets, niggas know
This where the shots creep real slow
As soon as you try speak, triggers blow
I used to cry sleep, not no more
'Cause now my assigned seat is a throo-oo-oo-one
Workin' on the clock
Lay the verse then serve it on the block (mm)
Say the word and have 'em murdered on the spot (mm)
Paperwork, I'm signin' cursive on the dot (mm)
Can't be workin' fliggin' burgers on the job (no)
'Member time when mom was in the jungle (ooo)
Pen phone buzzin' like the bumble (ooo)
Long way away from all that gunsmoke
Now I'm at the venue sittin' front row
Watchin' Phori vibin' with a blunt rolled
'Dale nigga, never seen nothing
'Sept a politician team fronting
Bond note have a teen pumping (doo-doo-doo-doo)
Made it out, it gotta mean something
Made it out, it gotta mean something
Made it out, it gotta mean something

Written by:
Ray Kazembe

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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