Shout 2 the True lyrics

[Intro: Cold 187um]
Yo, yo, yo, yo, I wanna reminisce a little real on this one, man
You know, I wanna go way back, man
You know, so don't stop the tape
You know, I'ma kick something so everybody know what time it is, man

[Verse 1: Cold 187um]
Now, here's a little story I have to tell
About three young n*ggas, you know so well
It started way back in history
With my main homie K-Oss and the homie KM.G
Yeah, we used to push big weight, on the north side of P-Town
So you don't have to question, if we really down
Check your n*gga for his heart, if he's smart
See, he's broke down, go and kick it in the park after dark
Cause n*ggas be trying to short stop the work
But I'm, "Nobody move, Nobody get hurt"
We had to watch for the snitches, the b*tches
The ones that sake them b*tches from them feds when they smash through
Without a clue, that was scary
So we had to pack up the shack and we moved down the Moeberry
All the neighbors who are know on ya
And all I can remember is Grace saying: Baby, I'ma pray for ya
It was dooming big trouble, speedy local too
We took turns when the real money came through
And if the Po-Po rush anyway
They be thinking all the way, they're f*cking Cali 'fore they find yay
We make the killing at summer
Cause back then, the police was more dumber
Yeah, Young black n*ggas, no job, no schooling
Yeah, straight cluck, we was ruling
I mean from Ghosttown to Cin-town, all the way to the Islands
Coming through cause violence
I served any mothaf*cker being Blood or Crip
We be the last mothaf*ckers that was known to slip
Or trip up, and I'ma help you meet your Maker
That's how it is, when I'm chasing that paper, for real
[Chorus: Cold 187um] (x2)
I'ma keep hustling til the day I die
Cause see, the rap game and pimp game is all the same
So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I'm going through
Then let me know to keep it true, ugh

[Verse 2: KM.G]
See, I can propose a toast to the illest Pimp gang in the motherf*cking town
And my lawer standing ground
Vitals running through my mind, thinking about the time
When I was like strolling, one-time patrolling the hood
My knuckle K-Oss had a little-Old-Spot
With a gang of rocks, and a fat-Ass-Knot
Yeah, we're pushing down the block with dubs and tools
Went to the little spot to scoop my n*gga Daddy Cool
Trigga n*gga, the one that keeps the Ese's loco
The one with the rough, rugged, platinum vocals
He said: he loved how we're doing it, right?
Busters, mad-dogging what that Clinic like
But anyway, put some chemicals all up in the air
And call this whore, that wants to do your f*cking hair
7-up's got a lick, and we need to be lovely
A smooth little taking from them fools of raw making
They gave it up, like a groupie
No Gun play by K-Cavy flosses, and case of Tanqueray
Shoot back to the crib with the straps
Then hook up at the shack with them Bel-l-rats
[Chorus: Cold 187um w/ variations]

[Outro: Cold 187um]
Ugh, yeah, ugh, Pimp Clinic represents to the.. ugh fullest
Yeah, ugh, yeah, ninety twist-style, ninety twist-style
We're flipping ki's, you know what I'm saying?
Hah, yeah, ugh, yeah, it's all the same
Ugh, yeah, ugh