Quarterback Vision by Z-ro
(*Vince Young; Z-Ro)
Uh, homie you on't really want me to shine*
Like Boston George ain't wanna give up his f'neck to Diego,
I'm the type of nigga dat's gonna come up, want me to stay low,
The day I leave this bitch in a body bag is what you pray fo,
When I'm still livin and y'all hatas get mo mad with every breath I take,
Sometime I might spill a nigga but J Prince clean up every mess I make,
Some like my quicker picker upper thats ma bounty nigga,
Ma piss durty but I ain't smoke but just weed in ma brownie nigga,
You don wan run with me I'm ridin with that big gun,
Ma fifty caliber shoot so far I call that bitch my vince young,
If it's really time to murk you homie,
I ain't gonna need a rehearsal homie,
Cuz it ain't gonna be a commercial homie,
Sex money and murda homie,
Call me Vince Young homie I got quarterback vision,
I can see the five o's when they blitzin,
I see stick up kids targetin Z-Ro for tha stickin,
So it's pistols in every room, every bathroom and both kitchens,
You better go long homie, cuz you know I throw long homie,
But you don't wanna catch this pass,
Touchdown for the S-U-C we Soldiers United for Cash,
Touchdown like Reggie Bush on a break away,
Who gon catch my ass, I don't know nobody that fast, woo woo wooo,
I'm feelin so Pimp C right now call me ro che,
Yeah yo diamonds shine but not like mine homie that's yo bad,
And I ain't even a materialistic guy,
I don't luuv money but you might think I do cuz I'll murda you if you try to take sum from me,
Look at you know you can't even have an open casket you dumb dummy,
And I sleep real good every night cuz ain't none of the bullets come from me,
So don't make me Floyd Mayweather Junior yo ass,
Like I was a hundred forty-seven pounds with an AK-47 rounds, sit down,
I'm official like a referee whistle and tougher than bone gristle,
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