Z-Ro - Call My Phone Lyrics

[Chorus:]
Bitch, you ain't gotta call my phone
Matta fact all you hoes can leave me alone
I just want my money
And not one of you nappy-headed hoes goin get none from me
Nigga, you ain't gotta call my phone
Matta fact all you niggas can leave me alone
I just want my money
And not one of my fake ass homeboys won't get none from me

[Z-Ro:]
I don't need know help my nigga
I can do bad on my own
And I don't need no company lil momma
Even tho I know you give great dome
I rather play my Xbox 360 while smoking and sipping drank
Ain't even goin waste no gas, going to get some ass, I'm a keep my gas in my tank
Leave my money in my pocket I never leave it with hoes
Put a ring on my own finger cause I sleep with Z-Ro
Homie I don't giva f*ck about what you drive or how much money ya got
And I don't giva damn if y'all really like me or not
I see your lips moving but I can't hear nothing, cause I'm not listening
Hoe you only talking to me because my teeth are glistening
And Y'all niggas be riding dicks so much y'all need a dildo
That way when you think about Z-Ro, you can shove it up in yo ass real slow
I'm a gangsta, but I'm a man first, and I tallerate no disrespect
My momma if it's money for me to make weed goin slip the sex

[Chorus]

[Slim Thug:]
Slim Thugga, Mothaf*cka
I'm trying stay rich, f*ck a bitch (f*ck a bitch)
I rather hit the studio and make another hit (another hit)
Stop calling on my phone man I'm on some other shit
Just leave a nigga alone, I ain't the suckers you f*cking with
Cause bitch you ain't about to get no dime or no quality time
I rather be on my grind, smoking weed, writing rhymes
All you rapping ass niggas calling me to get signed
Want me to rap for free, you done lost yo mind (you done lost yo mind)
I don't care how long I knew ya give a f*ck if we kin
We went to high school together giva f*ck if we friends
Ya ain't talking bout shit if you ain't talking about end's
Bring ya ten G's, I see what'cha talking bout then
All you roaching ass niggas and hoes in my face
Can't get it crumb from me, no so don't waste
Yo mothaf*ckin crime tryna plot on mine
I got my cash in my stash locked down, so now...

[Chorus]

[Z-Ro:]
It's a shame having a cell phone, but don't want it to ring
Cause I don't wanna deal with bull shit people and the bull shit they might bring
That's why I send them the voice mail heaven I don't wanna talk
Cause bull shit run a marathon, I rather keep it real and walk
I don't giva damn about how pretty you look, you can still kiss my ass (kiss my ass)
Especially if I got to choose between you and my cash (my cash)
I'm a choose money everytime, anywhere I can always get a new whip
Besides, I'm what bitches be trying find, I'm young, black and I'm rich
If you thinking I'm goin pay money to hit that ass
I gotta trick for your ugly ass
I'll dismiss you right after I hit you and then go f*ck your friends
Then you'll be ready to committing suicide and then I'll never speak to you again
My nigga Gredy, my nigga Rickby, my nigga Michael Coleon
Them only three niggas phone number programed in my phone
They call me the king of the ghetto, because I rule this bitch
I'm about business I don't participate in foolishness, bitch