| Now throughout my humble career, I’ve dated a couple famous models
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| My friends say with your luck, you need to play the lotto
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| Now say the motto, money over, that’s immature
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| This little whore, half black and half Singapore
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| Thing was pure, skin mocha, trim sculpture
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| Curse like a sailor, but honey was still cultured
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| She wore bandannas and swore she was gang bangin'
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| But, real people knew the facade she was maintainin' up
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| That ain’t what’s up, but I’m always down for a famous fuck
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| Approached her at this gala see if she came to bluff
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| Kanye’s 30th, Louie Vuitton store
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| The top floor, custom suits tailored by Tom Ford
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| «Encore, do you want more?
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| Cookin' raw with this Brooklyn boy» was playin'
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| I got this two step goin', I’m lookin' marvelous
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| Seen her comin' towards me, damn, I could I start this shit
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| She comin' weird on some awkward shit
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| She told me «here, come and spark this spliff»
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| Stepped in the dark with Miss, she started grabbin' all this dick
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| And I’m like, «damn, how did she start this quick?
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| Let’s get up out this bitch» («bring it on like this»)
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| Now we headed to the Lexus
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| Stop me dead in my tracks talkin' some private jet shit
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| Had a shoot in L.A., Christian Dior press kits
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| Wanted me to fly, that pussy must got a death wish
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| Long story short, end up in Beverly Hills
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| I gave her heavenly thrills while playin' Stephanie Mills
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| Call my nigga Stef, gave Stefan the spill
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| «Yo, you would never guess who I just blessed in the Hills?
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| my nigga, I’m that blatant»
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| He said, «I know her, she stayin' with ««You talkin' 'bout the actor?», «Yeah nigga, the actor»
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| «Well, he gon' believe that his girl’s fuckin' this rapper»
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| Came back in the room, shorty lookin' confused
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| A mist in the air, like what the fuck is these fumes?
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| She foamin' at the mouth, this is truly concernin'
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| It’s like a Pulp Fiction, but she ain’t a Uma Thurman
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| I’m thinkin' to myself like, «what I do to deserve this?»
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| She live the wild life, let’s leave this cougar deserted
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| I yell, «I'm out», this plan’s aborted
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| 25 to life in the prison, I can’t afford it
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| Her eyes rolled back like sex with the last stroke
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| Grab coat, exit left, right through that crack smoke
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| That’s close, too close if you ask me
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| Got this bitch livin' lavish, how stupid can be?
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| Now I’m back in my pad in front of the flat screen
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| Like, I hope they don’t say where this woman was last seen
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| Right, this the type of shit you couldn’t pay for admission
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| Somethin' told me don’t go, wasn’t able to listen
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| Turn to FOX 5, you know they play with the system
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| Said she had a mild stroke, and she’s in a stable condition
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| Yeah, fuckin' right
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| That bitch smoke crack, I was right there
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| How you gon' tell me? |
| Fuckin' stroke |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song True HollyWood Stories , by - Ransom. Song from the album Greatest Rapper Alive, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп