Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shout 2 the True, artist - Above The Law. Album song Time Will Reveal, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 08.05.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Tommy Boy
Song language: English
Shout 2 the True |
Yo, yo, yo, yo, I wanna reminisce a little real on this one, man |
You know, I wanna go way back, man |
You know, so don’t stop the tape |
You know, I’ma kick something so everybody know what time it is, man |
Now, here’s a little story I have to tell |
About three young niggas, you know so well |
It started way back in history |
With my main homie K-Oss and the homie KM. |
G |
Yeah, we used to push big weight, on the north side of P-Town |
So you don’t have to question, if we really down |
Check your nigga for his heart, if he’s smart |
See, he’s broke down, go and kick it in the park after dark |
Cause niggas be trying to short stop the work |
But I’m, «Nobody move, Nobody get hurt» |
We had to watch for the snitches, the bitches |
The ones that sake them bitches from them feds when they smash through |
Without a clue, that was scary |
So we had to pack up the shack and we moved down the Moeberry |
All the neighbors who are know on ya |
And all I can remember is Grace saying: Baby, I’ma pray for ya |
It was dooming big trouble, speedy local too |
We took turns when the real money came through |
And if the Po-Po rush anyway |
They be thinking all the way, they’re fucking Cali 'fore they find yay |
We make the killing at summer |
Cause back then, the police was more dumber |
Yeah, Young black niggas, no job, no schooling |
Yeah, straight cluck, we was ruling |
I mean from Ghosttown to Cin-town, all the way to the Islands |
Coming through cause violence |
I served any mothafucker being Blood or Crip |
We be the last mothafuckers that was known to slip |
Or trip up, and I’ma help you meet your Maker |
That’s how it is, when I’m chasing that paper, for real |
I’ma keep hustling til the day I die |
Cause see, the rap game and pimp game is all the same |
So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I’m going through |
Then let me know to keep it true, ugh |
See, I can propose a toast to the illest Pimp gang in the motherfucking town |
And my lawer standing ground |
Vitals running through my mind, thinking about the time |
When I was like strolling, one-time patrolling the hood |
My knuckle K-Oss had a little-Old-Spot |
With a gang of rocks, and a fat-Ass-Knot |
Yeah, we’re pushing down the block with dubs and tools |
Went to the little spot to scoop my nigga Daddy Cool |
Trigga nigga, the one that keeps the Ese’s loco |
The one with the rough, rugged, platinum vocals |
He said: he loved how we’re doing it, right? |
Busters, mad-dogging what that Clinic like |
But anyway, put some chemicals all up in the air |
And call this whore, that wants to do your fucking hair |
7-up's got a lick, and we need to be lovely |
A smooth little taking from them fools of raw making |
They gave it up, like a groupie |
No Gun play by K-Cavy flosses, and case of Tanqueray |
Shoot back to the crib with the straps |
Then hook up at the shack with them Bel-l-rats |
Ugh, yeah, ugh, Pimp Clinic represents to the. |
ugh fullest |
Yeah, ugh, yeah, ninety twist-style, ninety twist-style |
We’re flipping ki’s, you know what I’m saying? |
Hah, yeah, ugh, yeah, it’s all the same |
Ugh, yeah, ugh |