Слова песни Z-Ro — What Happened to That Dude

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[Hook — 2x]
What happened to that dude, what happened to that dude
What happened to that dude
He was bumping, so I slapped a patch up out that dude

Y`all fellas, know what happened to that dude
He ran up in my face, and he ruined my mood
I couldn`t let it slide, I couldn`t let it go
Couldn`t let a motherfucker, play me for a hoe
Pulled out my 4-4, and I just bust
Nan nigga nan bitch, will I ever trust
Unless it`s my people, unless it`s my kin
I don`t love shit, but my people and my ends
Put my ends in my safe, in a safe place
I break a bone, in your motherfucking face
If you think I tell a story, if you think I`m lying
Pull out my iron, and I commits to find
Have a nigga falling, off of his game
If I hit a head shot, that`s the end of his brain
Simple and plain, ain`t it
This tool, will leave a nigga wig painted
Know what I`m saying, I couldn`t be playing
I sit on top of the roof, and start spraying
At a nigga head, leave a nigga dead
(*claps*), leave him bruised and red
We don`t give a fuck mayn, that`s a clap
I put a motherfucking, clip in my strap
Bust at your back, bust at your front
Then I go to the house, roll up a blunt
That`s how I do it, don`t fuck with fluid
But I`ma be fluent like fluid, and I knew it
One day, I get a platinum plack
If you running up, you better back on back cause

What happened to that dude, what happened to that dude
What happened to that dude
It`s your boy Z-Ro, and I`m way too rude

I had to do it like that, and like this
Had to break a bone, and make a motherfucking wish
I did it like this, and I did it like that
A nursery rhyme, and still broke a bitch back
Like that, like this
Hit it from the back, and don`t quit
Bitch fuck you hoe, I`m all about my dough
Standing on the corner, with my chrome 4-4
Maybe 4-5, maybe twelve gauge
Trying my best, just to make the front page
Put a homicide, on worldwide news
If a nigga chase me, I`ll give him the blues
Pull out my motherfucking, power pellet
Roll up the doja, and I start to inhale it
Now I`m feeling fine, I`m really feeling fine
I dropped me a eight, in a thunderberg wine
Got a nigga feeling like, I lost my dog
Jump in my bitch, and I boss my hog
I hit the streets, the streets hit me back
I checked my pager, it was time to attack
The motherfucking dope fiends, time to get money
I want my bread, I want my honey
I want my streets of gold, for I can walk on
And a platinum walkie talkie, I can talk on
Man, I`m feeling way too heavy
A monster, so can`t nothing scare me
I`m unscareable, it`s unbearable
Man, when you hear me it`s terrible
Cause I be beating, on your motherfucking nerve and
Might be in the Bourbon, or Excursion
It don`t matter, cause I`m riding high
Leaning to the side, when I`m sliding by
All in your face nigga, slapping
Out the motherfucking taste nigga
That`s how it go, never been a hoe
Try to take what`s mine, and get a mouth full of flow

Yeah, oh yeah, I`m feeling that
Shit, boys get the shit slapped out
Your motherfucking ass, what 3-2 say
Yeah man, you bootleggers, we got all kind
Of bootleggers out here though, you know I`m saying
We gotta put a slap into them dudes
You know I`m saying, these niggas that sue boys
For 150,000, like that`s hurting my highsing
Nigga I`m still rising, while you coniving
You ain`t shining, but bitch I shine like a light
All day all night, whether gun fight or fist fight
Get the Roley on your wrist right, bitch

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