Z-Ro Lyrics

Album: Unknown

Still Standing Lyrics

f/ Big Mello, Lil' Flex

 

 [Z-Ro talking]

 Yes indeed, H-Town, it go down Lil' Flex, Z-Ro, Big Mello

 Know what I'm saying, you boys can't stop us man

 Unstopable, feel me, yeah

 They got to feel us till they kill us, this for the radio

 

 [Lil' Flex]

 Ain't nothing but a g thang baby

 Turnel sets dried yellow bones crazy

 Can't fade me, died lately

 Pulling out the escallade or a mercedes

 Trunk popper, show stopper, drank sipper

 Rule number one is to never tip a stripper

 And I know a lot of y'all want to wish me trouble

 Went from swanging hoo-doos to a bentley bubble

 Image is everything, diamonds in every ring

 Piece and chains that hang down low to my dang-a-lang

 Stop that, cop that, I'm a baller baby

 Got the rims that poke out on the prowler baby

 I'm the same young cat that dropped the jewels on them

 Next year I'm about to drop 22's on them

 From the Mo to the Fo, back to airport landing

 Diamonds speak for theyself, Flex so outstanding

 

 [Chorus]

 Still standing, and you know we represent the south

 And ya know ya know we represent the south 

 Still standing, we in the door and these haters can't keep us out

 

 [Big Mello]

 I represent that S-O-U-T-H to the S-I-D-E

 Drop screens you can see me completely

 Off the heezy, fa sheezy I'm breezy

 Cause my diamonds they be known to blind hoes like Stevie

 Believe me, outstanding with my family

 From me and Z-Ro and Lil' Flex at the grammy

 Boss player from Texas, you could tell by the necklace

 We gone break these hoes on four's now we frozen the Lexus

 My protected, move around, get around

 Come through show some round when we hit your town

 It go down, whoa now, school slow down

 Watch these fours roll down crawl down your block

 Top drop, trunk knock, glock cocked

 And these shops gone bop, it don't stop

 Won't stop, how it go down

 Harm clock, Mo City, south west still shine, wooo

 

 [Chorus]

 

 [Z-Ro]

 Screwed up representer these fellas don't want none

 From the land of the trunk poppers where ballers blow tons

 We stacking funds, and living our life out on the run

 In search of a platinum plack trying to get stacks it just begun

 If you talking down move around we ain't having that

 East and West took it before but see we came to grab it back

 Can't see us like cataracts, off in our natural habitat

 That's the studio and bro you know ain't no more selling crack

 Ain't nothing but rocking trash talking on down to the ain't that

 Cause I'm a veteran to this here ever since the days of the Wave Band

 When I was knee high to a grass hopper but now we roll on chppers

 Me and Gene hovering over the ground in candy helicopters

 Now we platinum status without driving a dodge stratus

 Keeping it gangsta energy instinct with a heater to protect us

 Man it's third coast, to me our music mean the most

 Big Mello and Lil' Flex and Z-Ro the crooked as your folks and we

 

 [Chorus - 2x]