| Right now we got a lil' youngsta
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| Lil' Doogie, from the B.G.'z
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| Do what’cha gotta do mane
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| Say what’cha gotta say Wayne
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| The rhymes you are about to hear are true
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| This some true shit.
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| Shoulda killed you bitches when we heard that song
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| Tipped it on, talkin' bout 6th &Baronne
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| When the fuckin' lights on up early in the mornin',
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| All that muthafuckin' creepin'
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| Pissin' on the set when a nigga Dee, sleepin'
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| Pussy ass
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| You know you can’t survive,
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| You was creepin' through that third, you must don’t know it’s do or die
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| Now that nigga on my list
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| A P-poppin' bitch no disresp
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| P-Poppin' bitch no disresp
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| P-poppin', P-Poppin', P-Poppin' bitch no disrespect to the tenth
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| But there’s a pussy in your face and they can suck and dick
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| Ridin' and slidin' with all that workin' and twerkin'
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| You can’t be no «G», cuz a «G"not down wit jerkin'
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| Them niggas always comin' with that play,
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| You want some real drama, why don’t you bring that shit our way?
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| Cuz I’m a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk,
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| Stuntin' in a concert, take it to the fuckin' trunk
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| Talkin' all that bullshit, talkin' all that shit on wax,
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| Talkin' all that yak-yak, but I’ma split your Kool-Aid pack bitch
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| I got my pistol close at hand, this for the REAL,
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| Real pussies in the can
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| The rhymes you are about to hear are true.
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| This some true shit.
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| Chuck fuckin' them niggas at niggggggggggght
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| They doin' bad and slangin' rhymes at the same time, ain’t lyin'!
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| Now this nigga is a muthafuckin' dick beater
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| Heard at Corn he was a muthafuckin' cheerleader
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| Fuckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
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| I’ma leavin' ya muthafuckin' thinking cap on the curb
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| Chuck got some mail? |
| Cuz oh yes, I’m comin' to get’cha
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| And if I don’t get 20 G’s I’ma split’cha,
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| I’m a murderer, server, nigga come try to test
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| Had to put’em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
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| But uh, you know you done fucked up don’t cha?
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| Like Yella said, you mad cuz Ca$h Money didn’t want’cha
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| Let’s move across that water strapped with that A.K.
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| They got some wannabe crips, wanna bang, go to L.A.
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| Now you can claim, the East, North, West, or South
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| Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth
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| Them niggas be rappin', very much trippin'
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| Talkin' all that nonsense, slippin' talkin' bout they be crippin'
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| But it’s like this, watch out before you get bucked
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| I’m tellin' coward ass niggas to raise up, raise up, raise up
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| At first he was a cheerleader now he ain’t that nigga to fuck wit
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| That goes to show you studio yeah that nigga buck quick
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| You duck sick when I catch’cha, you best to start to runnin',
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| Cuz I’m comin', start duckin', cuz I’m bustin', and pluckin'
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| Fuck it
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| Chuck, you big trick, you hoe bitch,
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| Puttin' stank hoes in apartments and shit
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| And ummm, them niggas who help you get the money you straight FUCK EM
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| When check time come, they gets nothin', you pluck em
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| And y’all hoes for lettin' him take it,
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| Hard rolled and fake it,
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| Niggas best to look like skatin'
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| Now back to this muthafuckin' Mystikal bitch
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| You wanna jump on a nigga like a morphodyke come jump on the dick
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| That’s enough of this hoe shit on the real
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| If you don’t spit «G"shit with skillz you can’t pay bills I make mils
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| I close the shop for them niggas wanna shine
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| Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
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| Don’t whine, niggas can’t handle me not hard
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| I’m the bitch who came to fuck up the party
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| When I catch’cha I’ma kill ya don’t worry,
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| This is another part of that fuckin' true story
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| Partners you bet not do no crime,
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| Get no time and go to JAIL
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| Cuz in that two man cell, best believe you gone get NAILED
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| Mystikal you’z a hoe, it’s time I Iet’cha know
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| Y’all ain’t ready for Local five, got a boot c&fulla hoes
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| I’m gat totin', ready to leave your heart open
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| Bullets floatin', hot nine chambers smokin'
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| Uptown, ya bound to get y’all wig split
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| Y’all represent a 17th set that don’t even exist
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| Now that’s a shame, you reppin' just to get a name
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| You can’t survive in this game cuz you niggas lame
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| I’m ready to take it to some «G"shit, street shit
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| Where caps get peeled, and wigs bound to get split
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| I’m off Valence, ain’t no doubt this B.G. |
| ain’t real
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| I’m bout to *hic* hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel
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| Peel, make niggas kneel, bow down
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| From this clown that’s gonna put you six in the ground.
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| It’s time a nigga put Big Boy where the fuck they belong
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| Rollin' wit Tec-9 best believe it’s on
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| Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise u |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song True Story , by - B.G.. Song from the album True Story, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп