True
Here lizard-lizard-lizard, uh
It's the almighty King Koopa, Chamillionaire
The color-changing lizard, the Mixtape Messiah
Please stand for the ghetto national anthem, let's go, man
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true (I'm so, I'm so true)
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what these boys is talking 'bout, we wipe boys down
In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown
From the streets of Antoine to the Homestead hoods
From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good
I'm riding on platinum grey, with Z-Ro and Trae
Gon' let the top down, it's a beautiful day
Haters jealous on the sidelines, running they mouth
'Cause I roll with T.I.P., the king of the South
Boys know I'm Paid In Full, so they clocking my dollars
Me, Poppy, Joe and Fox all riding Impalas
I'm breaking bread with Mike Jones, and Slim Thug the Boss
It's Paul Wall, still representing Swishahouse
I'm with my boy Big Kaila, I don't bar no hater
I'm on the grind for paper, I'll holla at ya later
Forget what they talking "bout, I'm in love with my wealth
I ain't gotta say I'm true, 'cause true speak for itself, baby
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true (I'm so, I'm so true)
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true, ayy
They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who? And they say you
If she's a dime tell her I'm fine, and she'll say true-true
Turn up the bang if you into, something color-changing the rims do
Sound like a train 'cause when I stop, they be like choo-choo-choo
And I'm thugging too homie, the heater kinda like Al Bundy's hand
Believe me, every time you see me, it's gon' be in the pants
If I do a crime and you snitch, homie the heater will snitch too
'Cause if the police come around, it'll be pointing at you
Somebody give mouth-to-mouth to this mic after it melt
'Cause the only rapper out rapping me is me, after myself
I hope you internet thugs, that will swear that I ain't the tightest
Have cyber sex with Cita, until you catch a virus
Why is he saying this, to piss boys off?
I officially claim myself, the rap King of the South
They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who? And they say you
And I say no, give that title to the late great DJ Screw, rest in peace
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true (I'm so, I'm so true)
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true, uh
The definition of a pimp is (me), 'cause I ain't doing shit for (free)
I got my own label now, if you ain't heard it's (Clover G's)
Now me and Will chasing the scrill, we pulling up on chrome wheels
N-, your royalty check looking like my phone bill (ha-ha-ha)
Quick to capping picture snapping, paparazzi follow me
Yeah I'm platinum I'll slap him if he smoke up all my weed
I love to speed on dubs and Spre's, b- leave the club with me
Snitches mean mugging me, don't make me bust my f- heat
We popping trunks and smoking blunts, that sticky-ickie (ooh-wee)
Last year I did a mill', now I'm 'bout to do (three)
I bring the heat on every track, it's five G's for every bar
Just because I'm in a Porsche box, don't mean I like the spa
That don't mean I like the car, you know I'm down to break your jaw
Just because I burn rubber, that don't mean I like the tar
We ghetto stars in every state, like Pimp and Bun we keep it trill
And if you ain't heard, it's Lil Flipper and Chamill'
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
It's the almighty King Koopa, Chamillionaire
The color-changing lizard, the Mixtape Messiah
Please stand for the ghetto national anthem, let's go, man
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true (I'm so, I'm so true)
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what these boys is talking 'bout, we wipe boys down
In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown
From the streets of Antoine to the Homestead hoods
From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good
I'm riding on platinum grey, with Z-Ro and Trae
Gon' let the top down, it's a beautiful day
Haters jealous on the sidelines, running they mouth
'Cause I roll with T.I.P., the king of the South
Boys know I'm Paid In Full, so they clocking my dollars
Me, Poppy, Joe and Fox all riding Impalas
I'm breaking bread with Mike Jones, and Slim Thug the Boss
It's Paul Wall, still representing Swishahouse
I'm with my boy Big Kaila, I don't bar no hater
I'm on the grind for paper, I'll holla at ya later
Forget what they talking "bout, I'm in love with my wealth
I ain't gotta say I'm true, 'cause true speak for itself, baby
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true (I'm so, I'm so true)
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true, ayy
They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who? And they say you
If she's a dime tell her I'm fine, and she'll say true-true
Turn up the bang if you into, something color-changing the rims do
Sound like a train 'cause when I stop, they be like choo-choo-choo
And I'm thugging too homie, the heater kinda like Al Bundy's hand
Believe me, every time you see me, it's gon' be in the pants
If I do a crime and you snitch, homie the heater will snitch too
'Cause if the police come around, it'll be pointing at you
Somebody give mouth-to-mouth to this mic after it melt
'Cause the only rapper out rapping me is me, after myself
I hope you internet thugs, that will swear that I ain't the tightest
Have cyber sex with Cita, until you catch a virus
Why is he saying this, to piss boys off?
I officially claim myself, the rap King of the South
They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who? And they say you
And I say no, give that title to the late great DJ Screw, rest in peace
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true (I'm so, I'm so true)
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true, uh
The definition of a pimp is (me), 'cause I ain't doing shit for (free)
I got my own label now, if you ain't heard it's (Clover G's)
Now me and Will chasing the scrill, we pulling up on chrome wheels
N-, your royalty check looking like my phone bill (ha-ha-ha)
Quick to capping picture snapping, paparazzi follow me
Yeah I'm platinum I'll slap him if he smoke up all my weed
I love to speed on dubs and Spre's, b- leave the club with me
Snitches mean mugging me, don't make me bust my f- heat
We popping trunks and smoking blunts, that sticky-ickie (ooh-wee)
Last year I did a mill', now I'm 'bout to do (three)
I bring the heat on every track, it's five G's for every bar
Just because I'm in a Porsche box, don't mean I like the spa
That don't mean I like the car, you know I'm down to break your jaw
Just because I burn rubber, that don't mean I like the tar
We ghetto stars in every state, like Pimp and Bun we keep it trill
And if you ain't heard, it's Lil Flipper and Chamill'
Forget what them boys is talking 'bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red, you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Credits
Writer(s): Sheppard J. Solomon, Ryan Frank Cabrera, James Harry
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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