True Story
Right now we got a lil' youngsta
Lil' doogie, from the B.G.'s
Do what'cha gotta do man
Say what'cha gotta say wayne
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit
Shoulda killed you bitches when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talking bout 6th & Baronne
When the fuckin' lights on up early in the morning
All that muthafucking creeping
Pissing on the set when a nigga deep sleeping
Pussy ass
You know you can't survive
You was creeping through that third, you must don't know it's do or die
Now that nigga on my list
A p-popping bitch no disresp
P-popping bitch no disresp
P-popping, p-popping, p-popping bitch no disrespect to the tenth
But there's a pussy in your face and they can suck and dick
Riding and sliding with all that working and twerking
You can't be no g, 'cause a g not down wit jerking
Them niggas always coming with that play
You want some real drama, why don't you bring that shit our way?
'Cause I'm a baby gangsta down for that street funk
Stunting in a concert, take it to the fucking trunk
Talking all that bullshit, talking all that shit on wax
Talking all that yak-yak, but Imma split your Kool-Aid pack bitch
I got my pistol close at hand, this for the real
Real pussies in the can
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit
Chuck fuckin' them niggas at night
You doing bad and slanging rhymes at the same time, ain't lying
Now this nigga is a muthafucking dick beater
Heard Daquan he was a muthafucking cheerleader
Fuckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
Imma leaving ya muthafucking thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? 'Cause oh yes, I'm coming to getcha
And if I don't get 20 g's Imma split'cha
I'm a murderer, server, nigga don't try to test
Had to put 'em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
But uh, you know you done fucked up don't cha?
Like yella said, you mad cuz Ca$h Money didn't want cha
Let's move across that water strapped with that A.K
They got some wannabe Crips, wanna bang, go to L.A
Now you can claim, the east, north, west, or south
Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth
Them niggas be rapping, very much tripping
Talking all that nonsense, slipping talking bout they be cripping
But it's like this, watch out before you get bucked
I'm telling coward ass niggas to raise up, raise up, raise up
At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that nigga to fuck wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that nigga buck quick
You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to running
'Cause I'm comin', start duckin', cuz I'm bustin', and plucking
Fuck it
Chuck, you big trick, you hoe bitch
Putting stank hoes in apartments and shit
And ummm, them niggas who help you get the money you straight fuck em
When check time come, they gets nothing, you pluck em
And y'all hoes for letting him take it
Hard rolled and fake it
Niggas best to look like skating
Now back to this muthafucking mystikal bitch
You wanna jump on a nigga like a morphodyke come jump on the dick
That's enough of this hoe shit on the real
If you don't spit g shit with skillz you can't pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them niggas wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
Don't whine, niggas can't handle me not hard
I'm the bitch who came to fuck up the party
When I catch'cha Imma kill ya don't worry
This is another part of that fucking true story
Partners you bet not do no crime
Get no time and go to jail
'Cause in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you'z a hoe, it's time I let you know
Y'all ain't ready for local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes
I'm gat toting, ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floating, hot nine chambers smoking
Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split
Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist
Now that's a shame, you repping just to get a name
You can't survive in this game 'cause you niggas lame
I'm ready to take it to some g shit, street shit
Where caps get peeled, and wigs bound to get split
I'm off valence, ain't no doubt this B.G ain't real
I'm bout to *hic* hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel
Peel, make niggas kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground
It's time a nigga put big boy where the fuck they belong
Rolling with Tec-9 best believe it's on
Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up
Lil' doogie, from the B.G.'s
Do what'cha gotta do man
Say what'cha gotta say wayne
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit
Shoulda killed you bitches when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talking bout 6th & Baronne
When the fuckin' lights on up early in the morning
All that muthafucking creeping
Pissing on the set when a nigga deep sleeping
Pussy ass
You know you can't survive
You was creeping through that third, you must don't know it's do or die
Now that nigga on my list
A p-popping bitch no disresp
P-popping bitch no disresp
P-popping, p-popping, p-popping bitch no disrespect to the tenth
But there's a pussy in your face and they can suck and dick
Riding and sliding with all that working and twerking
You can't be no g, 'cause a g not down wit jerking
Them niggas always coming with that play
You want some real drama, why don't you bring that shit our way?
'Cause I'm a baby gangsta down for that street funk
Stunting in a concert, take it to the fucking trunk
Talking all that bullshit, talking all that shit on wax
Talking all that yak-yak, but Imma split your Kool-Aid pack bitch
I got my pistol close at hand, this for the real
Real pussies in the can
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true shit
Chuck fuckin' them niggas at night
You doing bad and slanging rhymes at the same time, ain't lying
Now this nigga is a muthafucking dick beater
Heard Daquan he was a muthafucking cheerleader
Fuckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
Imma leaving ya muthafucking thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? 'Cause oh yes, I'm coming to getcha
And if I don't get 20 g's Imma split'cha
I'm a murderer, server, nigga don't try to test
Had to put 'em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
But uh, you know you done fucked up don't cha?
Like yella said, you mad cuz Ca$h Money didn't want cha
Let's move across that water strapped with that A.K
They got some wannabe Crips, wanna bang, go to L.A
Now you can claim, the east, north, west, or south
Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth
Them niggas be rapping, very much tripping
Talking all that nonsense, slipping talking bout they be cripping
But it's like this, watch out before you get bucked
I'm telling coward ass niggas to raise up, raise up, raise up
At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that nigga to fuck wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that nigga buck quick
You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to running
'Cause I'm comin', start duckin', cuz I'm bustin', and plucking
Fuck it
Chuck, you big trick, you hoe bitch
Putting stank hoes in apartments and shit
And ummm, them niggas who help you get the money you straight fuck em
When check time come, they gets nothing, you pluck em
And y'all hoes for letting him take it
Hard rolled and fake it
Niggas best to look like skating
Now back to this muthafucking mystikal bitch
You wanna jump on a nigga like a morphodyke come jump on the dick
That's enough of this hoe shit on the real
If you don't spit g shit with skillz you can't pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them niggas wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
Don't whine, niggas can't handle me not hard
I'm the bitch who came to fuck up the party
When I catch'cha Imma kill ya don't worry
This is another part of that fucking true story
Partners you bet not do no crime
Get no time and go to jail
'Cause in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you'z a hoe, it's time I let you know
Y'all ain't ready for local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes
I'm gat toting, ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floating, hot nine chambers smoking
Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split
Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist
Now that's a shame, you repping just to get a name
You can't survive in this game 'cause you niggas lame
I'm ready to take it to some g shit, street shit
Where caps get peeled, and wigs bound to get split
I'm off valence, ain't no doubt this B.G ain't real
I'm bout to *hic* hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel
Peel, make niggas kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground
It's time a nigga put big boy where the fuck they belong
Rolling with Tec-9 best believe it's on
Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up
Credits
Writer(s): Christopher N Dorsey, Byron O Thomas
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.