Artist: Z-Ro Album: No Love Boulevard Song: Lit Up Typed by: Lil Hustle (*talking*) Revolution gets it's name by always coming back Around in your face, you tried to kill me you son of a bitch So welcome to the revolution, more to fall if I stay in touch [Chorus] Get lit up, when you talking out your face Get hit up, the detectives gon' close the case Get lit up, see you fuck with us we got to see you die Get hit up, bottle after bottle one more DUI Get lit up, you gon' have to let the swelling go down Get hit up, hoe you ain't got nothing to say no mo' now Get lit up, yeah I heard what you said Even if you living with an army, it's still off with your head [Z-Ro] I know y'all think I'm out my mind You bout if you one minute late, I don't play about my time Even when a nigga sleep I hustle, that's how I grind If you try to take food off my table I'ma kill, I'ma die about mine If I gotta do a murder I ain't losing no sleep, I'ma sleep so peaceful Show up at the funeral like I ain't did nothing, give condolences to all of your people I'm the Crip grim reaper say my name five times, I'ma make you pay for all of your evil If I do a drive by do it in a Lamborghini, I am too rich to do it in a Regal Was from a hood called trust my people, from a block named show love boulevard Now I'm from a hood called fuck my people, from a block named no love boulevard Now how can I ball, how can I ball How can I catch my enemies, and murder em all [Chorus] [Z-Ro] Uh, nigga I lit your whole street That's the 50 if you still living, that mean you dove deep I'm a hood regular, but you ain't known in these streets So connected, Ro don't need a telephone in these streets On MLK in every city, it's a real nigga hustling And fuck niggaz in the way, they just on the field fumbling But I ain't got no time for that Gun in the front, with a pie in the back I give a nigga what he looking fo' I bet he won't do it no mo', you can see where his mind is at Do cereal bowl hoes, yes I'm cocoa pops up in this bitch Murder games once they started, ain't no stopping in this bitch It's Joseph McVey baby, shooting this a-way and that way baby I'ma put it in they face Mo City Don, King of the Ghetto God forgive me, I don't wanna be a devil But these niggaz be, and these bitches be Having me, it's bout killing me For mo' show money, and mo' hoe money Houston Texas, will never hear the end of me I don't pretend to be cause I am, y'all already know what I'm talking bout But we gon' keep that on the low, cause real killers don't talk a lot [Chorus]