B.G. – True Story Lyrics
Artist: B.G.
Song: True Story
Right now we got a lil’ youngsta
Do what’cha gotta do mane
Say what’cha gotta say, Wayne
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true sh#t
Shoulda killed you b#tches when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talkin’ ’bout 6th and Baronne
When the f#ckin’ lights on up early in the mornin’
All that muthaf#ckin’ creepin’
Pissin’ on the set when a n#gg# Dee, sleepin’
p#ss# #ss, you know you can’t survive
You was creepin’ through that third you must don’t know it’s do or die
Now that n#gg# on my list
A p-poppin’ b#tch no disresp’, p-poppin’ b#tch no disresp’
P-poppin’, p-poppin’, p-poppin’, b#tch no disrespect to the tenth
But there’s a p#ss# in your face and they can suck and dick
Ridin’ and slidin’ with all that workin’ and twerkin’
You can’t be no “G”, ‘cuz a “G” not down wit’ jerkin’
Them n#gg#s always comin’ with that play
You want some real drama, why don’t you bring that sh#t our way?
‘Cuz I’m a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk
Stuntin’ in a concert, take it to the f#ckin’ trunk
Talkin’ all that b#llsh#t, talkin’ all that sh#t on wax
Talkin’ all that yak-yak, but I’ma split your Kool-Aid pack, b#tch
I got my pistol close at hand, this for the real, real p#ssies in the can
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true sh#t
Chuck f#ckin’ them n#gg#s at night
They doin’ bad and slangin’ rhymes at the same time, ain’t lyin’
Now this n#gg# is a muthaf#ckin’ dick beater
Heard at Corn[unverified] he was a muthaf#ckin’ cheerleader
I’ma leavin’ ya muthaf#ckin’ thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? ‘Cuz oh, yes, I’m comin’ to get’cha
And if I don’t get 20 G’s, I’ma split’cha
I’m a murderer, server, n#gg# come try to test
Had to put’em to rest, no vest but one to the chest
But uh, you know you done f#cked up don’t cha?
Like Yella said, you mad ‘cuz Ca$h Money didn’t want’cha
Let’s move across that water strapped with that A.K.
They got some wannabe crips, wanna bang, go to L.A.
Now you can claim, the East, North, West, or South
Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth
Them n#gg#s be rappin’, very much trippin’
Talkin’ all that nonsense, slippin’ talkin’ bout they be crippin’
But it’s like this, watch out before you get bucked
I’m tellin’ coward #ss n#gg#s to raise up, raise up, raise up
At first he was a cheerleader now he ain’t that n#gg# to f#ck wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that n#gg# buck quick
You duck sick when I catch’cha, you best to start to runnin’
Cuz I’m comin’, start duckin’, cuz I’m bustin’ and pluckin’, f#ck it
Chuck, you big trick, you hoe b#tch
Puttin’ stank hoes in apartments and sh#t
And ummm, them n#gg#s who help you get the money
You straight f#ck ’em
When check time come, they gets nothin’, you pluck ’em
And y’all hoes for lettin’ him take it, hard rolled and fake it
n#gg#s best to look like skatin’
Now back to this muthaf#ckin’ Mystikal, b#tch
You wanna jump on a n#gg# like a morphodyke come jump on the dick
That’s enough of this hoe sh#t on the real
If you don’t spit “G” sh#t with skillz you can’t pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them n#gg#s wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
Don’t whine, n#gg#s can’t handle me not hard
I’m the b#tch who came to f#ck up the party
When I catch’cha I’ma kill ya don’t worry
This is another part of that f#ckin’ true story
Partners you bet not do no crime, get no time and go to jail
Cuz in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you’z a hoe, it’s time I let’cha know
Y’all ain’t ready for Local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes
I’m gat totin’, ready to leave your heart open
Bullets floatin’, hot nine chambers smokin’
Uptown, ya bound to get y’all wig split
Y’all represent a 17th set that don’t even exist
Now that’s a shame, you reppin’ just to get a name
You can’t survive in this game ‘cuz you n#gg#s lame
I’m ready to take it to some “G” sh#t, street sh#t
Where caps get peeled and wigs bound to get split
I’m bout to hiccup some bullets out my f#ckin’ steel
Peel, make n#gg#s kneel, bow down
From this clown that’s gonna put you six in the ground
It’s time a n#gg# put Big Boy where the f#ck they belong
Rollin’ wit’ tec-9 best believe it’s on
Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com
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B.G. Lyrics – True Story
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Release Year: 1995