| Lemme tell y’all a lil story about myself
|
| This right here is a true story, check it out though
|
| Ulcers hurt my salary, alter my personality
|
| Give it to you real, I can’t feed my culture no fallacy
|
| You know my attitude, arrogant, cocky rude
|
| Eatin off papi food, used to be a stocky dude
|
| Weighed two-twenty, wit two honies, I move monie
|
| It’s true dummy, dunny need a new tummy
|
| I become berserk, it was no fun to work
|
| Everyday my stomach hurt, rippin off my undershirt
|
| The pain was no comparison, stomach started cherishin
|
| Throwin up in public, yo fuck it, it was embarrassin
|
| Regurgitatin, green, yellow, burgundy, Boom
|
| But came my urgency soon, (what) the emergency room (oh)
|
| In there, no salvage, treated like a cold savage
|
| They said pimpin symptoms, huh, a dope addicts
|
| There you have it, but they ain’t find no heroin
|
| Coke, crack, dope, just weed, but that’s my medicine
|
| My baby mama, mama, and my grandma
|
| Say that I’m too gordy (too gordy), word to my blue maurys
|
| This is a true story
|
| I got stomach pain, don’t matter sun or rain
|
| Thought that it went away, uh oh, here it come again
|
| Never mind stuntin, dime puffin, doc spent his time frontin
|
| He like a bad detective, he ain’t find nuttin
|
| Besides that though, I can’t enjoy a movie, dinner (why is that?)
|
| My son growin up, I’m lookin like the movie thinner
|
| I’m thinkin suicide, do or die, sit and cry (oh)
|
| What hurt my baby moms askin if I’m gettin high (what the fuck you talkin about?
|
| She gonna play me a thug, I told the lady I love
|
| If it ain’t hustlin ma, please don’t relate me to drugs (at all)
|
| I’m loosin weight though, everyday pounds and muscles
|
| Gotta get off my ass, hit some towns and hustle
|
| Bein sick, huh, it get sickenin you know
|
| I was too sick to do shows, but still equipped to move O’s
|
| You know my attitude, get it how I get it If I can shoot, I turn around (then) I’m off my pivot
|
| And oops, I thought I had it mapped
|
| Weight started to gain again, it was just a game my friend
|
| Dame mane I pained again
|
| Ay yo, god body, I’m hard bodied, word mommy, vanishin
|
| Hadda go low, the male clinic, Minnesota
|
| I couldn’t get cake, a rock in a hard place
|
| For me, that’s a odd place, I’m only here by God’s grace
|
| Like a lab rat, them tests dishonor Cam
|
| Ultrasound, MIR, CAT scan, sonogram
|
| Laparoscopy, inoscopy, I be stressed (I be stressed)
|
| The prognosis, diagnosed, IBS
|
| And that’s irritable bowel child, I hadda spit it y’all
|
| Kick to y’all, so it ain’t my fault if I shit on y’all
|
| Get it, get it, get it, get it? |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I.B.S., artist - Cam'Ron. Album song Killa Season, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп