Letra More Or Less de Z-Ro original

Hook>
A lot of niggaz, wanna see me in my grave (more or less)
I be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less)
Go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less)
On your street, with the sweet (it ain't no need to have a vest)
A lot of niggaz, wanna see me in my grave (more or less
I be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less)
Go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less)
Only taking head shots, (it ain't no need to have a vest)

Z-Ro>
When I roll I roll solo, with my 4-4 on the side of me for company
Wishing a nigga and his click, would think about jumping me
Six enexchangable clips, seventeen bullets in each
That's a hundred and twelve reasons, a whole street could be deceased
Right when I was trying to change, fellas start playing games
Brought me back to reality, my sanity's now insane
I be busting for nothing homie, I'm addicted to shots
Blame my hood, cause that's just the way it is on my block
I got a bad attitude, cause I'm use to beefing
They'll never take me alive, the reason for no sleeping
So when a nigga come after me, I'ma hit him where it hurt
I'll let him make it, but his mama and daddy gon see a hearse
Fuck a driveby, I want him to look me in my eyes
Let him call Junior on his mobile, just to say goodbye
So call my name out, and watch how everybody run for cover
Cause they know I'm a heartless motherfucker, until I die

Hook>

Archie Lee>
This be the realest shit I ever wrote, and you can quote me cuz
I'm from the block where we hopeless thugs, but we suppose to thug
A lot of niggaz hate, a few show love
But that only keep me focused cuz, I got my heater with me
So when them niggaz, try to get me on the creep no
They getting merked, in they fresh white T oooh
H-Wood, be the set I claim
Southside we connected mayn, world respected mayn
Hitman, be the number one honcho
Get that white from Poppy, and that green from Poncho
Slab riding, got me loaded and cocked
Much love to my nigga Trae, good looking out

Trae>
I heard they coming to get me, but it ain't gon be no easy task
See me with the Mac-11, sending fifty through your glass
Am I losing my mind, I don't know and I don't really give a damn
But these motherfuckers, gon know who I am
Plus Dinkie shot a kite, and told me watch out for you hating ass niggaz
Run up on me, I'll be putting you in a grave ass niggaz
Now I'm riding, with my super entourage of hot shells
And if they catch up wit ya, garunteed they bringing hell
Let me take you to, another level of mind
To get a closer look at death, before I flatten your line
You done it this time, and ain't no way you getting away
I put this on me and my son, it won't be safe where you stay

Hook>

Boss>
That nigga don't wanna see me, with my black mask
But that's alright, cause I got a scheme for his black ass
See I believe, in creeping with reacons
I know where your girlfriend stay bitch, you be there every weekend
Riding up in a Regal, D-Eagle under the seat
I'm about to put six of them thangs, up under your meat
You got a hole in your neck, you need IV's to eat
I gotta show you the real way, of greeting niggaz with heat
I pull a black Mac up out the pack, walking from that Cadillac
Sipping on a low O-E, fired up like a battlecat
Niggaz don't wanna take it there, with Lil' Boss
I be fucking with B.D.'s, bitch I can get ya lost

Lil' B>
I'm sick and tired of you niggaz underestimating, and thinking I'm fake
You'll be the first example, of catching a slug to the chest plate
Break niggaz for fun, when they try to use guns
I can throw hands, but you niggaz so quick to try to run
To the trunk and wanna dump, old chump ass nigga
You'll get found, floating off in a swamp ass nigga
My click killas, and I'm the young guerilla of the pack
The true definition, of making niggaz back-back
Fuck a size, I'll demolish 'em all small or tall
It don't matter, bet your bitch ass fall
More or less so go on plex, if you think you're ready
Buck shots'll stretch your flesh, like spaghetti

Jay'Ton>
I guess you thought that it was over, when you pulled the 12 gauge
And I won't get no rest, until I see you in your grave
Last time to start checking when I hit the block, looking for cats
And since we playing dirty, you just might catch four in your back
Nonstop, I bet you niggaz finna know about me
I'm only 18, but still I'm classified as a G
I run with the best, them niggaz that'll leave you wrapped up
In a black truck, you don't want the heat clapped up
Better back up, nigga I'm a asshole
Everything in this camp, surrounded by the cash flow
Plus I live on the block, I know I'm being watched by the FED's
But I'ma still put a hot slug, dead in your braids

Hook>