Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Intro - Trae, artist - Trae Tha Truth. Album song Givin Em da Businezz, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.10.2007
Record label: Southern Players United
Song language: English
Intro - Trae |
Been waiting on this here, yeah shit |
R.I.P. |
Big Mello, Screw, Mafio, Big Boo, Gator |
All the fallen soldiers man, Southside |
Eastside, Westside, Northside, know I’m saying |
All my partnas, all your dead partnas |
But shit, I still feel stress, still gotta get something |
Off my chest, while these hoe niggas be doing what |
They be doing, I don’t know though, shit fuck it We gon stay two deep in a fo’do' |
Slow Loud And Bangin', all in my trunk |
Trunk full of funk, I ain’t never been a punk |
I blow on skunk, I blow on doja |
Military minded, I’m a motherfucking soldier |
Out the streets, of the Ridgemont 4 |
Not no bitch, and say I still ain’t a hoe |
Letting niggas know, everyday of the year |
I pimp my pen, and I get my point clear |
Why niggas wanna talk down, I don’t know |
Gotta take a trip to Akapoko, from the 4 |
With my 4−4 on my side, when I ride |
Ready to do another homicide, in a pine box |
And I’m gone, nigga old glory |
I’m H-Town to Cali, just like Robert Ory |
If I do a murder, flee the murder scene |
No missing shortage on the drank, I can’t find no lean |
From Southwest to Southfese, bitch it’s about war not bout peace |
Nigga like me, I’m bout knocking out teeth |
Know I’m saying, I’ll loose your grill |
A nigga coming down, in the Coupe Deville |
Looking gravy, looking real throwed |
I’ma be the nigga, pulling over at the fucking cross road |
With my K on my side, I’m ready to ride |
And if I gotta go, it’ll be a homicide |
Me and another nigga, on the way to the Golden Gate |
A nigga like me, can’t wait |
Just to make it, to another day |
Gotta get the big pay off, so get the fuck out my way |
When I come around your corner, so slow |
It’ll be the nigga, in the damn Polo |
It’s the rap lawing, jackers ain’t barring |
Why I skipped the slab, when I went straight to foreign |
Said it like I said it, in the old school |
Some niggas they be red, but Z-Ro blue |
I come around your corner, but I ain’t set tripping |
But I will, wet niggas and wet women |
With the calico, I had to let a motherfucker know |
That I come around your corner, in a Lincoln four do' |
A fox photo, cause I do it in a flash |
Nigga watch out, cause that could be your ass |
I rhyme so long, rhyme so strong |
I flicks my bar, sip then I swoll on Get on, the motherfucking bench |
And when the laws hit the corner, I hit the fence |
They wonder where I went, they keep looking |
I don’t give a fuck, like Tyson I keep hooking |
Or maybe like Lenox, I’m strong to the finish |
I’m like the ghetto Popeye, but I don’t need spinach |
I’ma keep going, I keep on flowing just like the Nile |
Million dolla mouthpiece, everytime I smile |
Look and load a, nigga ashtray |
Everytime he smile, he can turn the night to day |
You can open up the pop, and let the smoke come out |
We don’t give a damn, bout a crooked ass cop |
Crooked officer, crooked officer |
Make a nigga wanna blow the badge, off of ya Me and Dougie, my motherfucking brother |
R.I.P., to my motherfucking mother |
That’s the Dorothy Marie McVay Matthew |
There’s ten toes planted, in my motherfucking shoe |
I gotta be a man, hope you understand |
There’s nothing but the work, and the calico in my hand |
On a corner on the Ridgevan, and I’m serving a fiend |
A real live B-Boy, and you know what I mean |
I be stacking up chips, like Lego |
Dark on a pump, just like Calvin Kato |
Loosen to the rocket, a four-peat like Comets |
I don’t give a fuck, good punch a bitch nigga make him vomit |
On the grind, I’ma take a trip on Greyhound |
I be flying on a plane, but the dope is on the ground |
Headed to Lake Charles, or headed to Lafayette |
Maybe off in Alexandria, but I ain’t finished yet |
I gotta make a hoe I-10, I sin |
Then I, do it again |
I get my ends, I’m in my motherfucking Benz-e |
Got these hoes running round, in a friendse |
I be busting full clips, till they empty |
A piece of potent pussy, might tempt me Rain is trying to send me, to the Penitentiary |
The main reason why, I ain’t friendly |
I’m wired up, but I ain’t on no damn slaughter |
Dejaun in the back, and he got the camcorder |
Recording everything, the 4's gon swang |
Still pulling up, on Fondren and the Main |
Looking lovely, got to look good |
I throw up Ridgemont 4, cause that’s my hood |
Never been a hoe, I’m letting hoes know |
I gotta get a fucking P-L-A-T, but first a G-O |
L-D, a motherfucking plack |
I keep it straight and simple like that, hit a bitch from the back |
And I use my, motherfucking tool |
Make her say ouch, when I hit her with the mule |