Friends

This one right here, goes out to my real nigga Nate

My nigga Grey-D, out that Pud Park

Ride or die nigga, you know I'm saying

It's me and you, till the grave homie uh

I use to kick it with the people, I thought were friends

There was no envy or jealousy, cause ain't nobody have no ends

But only time would tell, true character traits

Cause the niggaz I figured to be real, turned out fake

I remember we smoked sherms, just to pass the time

Going hard as we did, no wonder some of us lost our mind

Cause you can't think straight, on that good gorilla piss

Especially by yourself, smoking five or six

Formaldehyde takes over the mind, can't you understand

If your partna go to tripping, remember he still your man

Heard my friend, pulled a pistol on my friend in the hood

Sobered up and apologized, 'sposed to been all good

Chilling all together again, walking side by side

Mr. Walker shot Mr. McCarly, bout eight or nine times

I ain't tripping, cause my nigga'z living better yet he's blessed

Half a calf muscle missing, shot everywhere but the neck

And the head but still breathing, what a story to tell

Now I get to see Mr. Walker, in Mr. State Jail

How the hell I'ma kick it with you nigga, you shot my G

With a friend like you, we don't need enemies

Trying to fall out of place, to explain his case

None of my cellies could feel it, that's why they violated your face

Tried to beef for me in the chow line, snuck up on me

Cause I ride for Grey-D, like he's my one and only homie

This is organized crime, when you fuck with me

Better prepare to tip toe, when you touch the streets

Hey, I'm not a killer but don't rush me

Cause I got a couple hundred motherfuckers, that won't let nobody touch me

I'm the Don now, but I remember the past

Ridgemont hardheads ride or die for eachother, quick to blast

Now it's come to this, all I ever wanted was peace

Never thought it be one of my own, trying to see me deceased

On top of that, when you balling you got too many friends

If it ain't no cheese they leave damn, was it me or my ends

Even women be getting in, where they fit

The love affair is so legit, until you come home and she done split with all your shit

That's why I'm so cold, towards people I meet

Because of something that was done to me, by less than a G

But nevertheless, I'll say it again

Z-Ro the Crooked know the key to survival, is fuck friends

Friends, ain't no mystery why Z-Ro don't have them

Friends, ain't too many of em I can really depend on

Friends, ain't no mystery why Z-Ro don't have them

Friends, they might be the reason for my bloody murder

So fuck friends