Z-Ro
What Happened to That Dude
[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

[Z-Ro]
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 n***a 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 n***a 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 n***a wig painted
Know what I'm saying, I couldn't be playing
I sit on top of the roof, and start spraying
At a n***a head, leave a n***a 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
[Hook]
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

[Z-Ro]
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 n***a 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 n***a 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 n***a, slapping
Out the motherfucking taste n***a
That's how it go, never been a hoe
Try to take what's mine, and get a mouth full of flow
(*talking*)
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 n***as that sue boys
For 150,000, like that's hurting my highsing
N***a 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