What Happened to That Dude Lyrics

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What Happened to That Dude Lyrics

by Z-Ro

[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 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



[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 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



(*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 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