True Story lyrics

[Intro: Mr. Ivan & Li Wayne]
Right now we got a lil' youngsta
Lil' Doogie, from the B.G.'s
Do whatcha gotta do mane
Say whatcha gotta say mane
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true sh*t

[Verse 1: B.G.]
Shoulda killed you b*tches when we heard that song
Tipped it on, talkin' bout 6th & Baronne
When the f*ckin' lights on up early in the mornin'
All that muthaf*ckin' creepin'
p*ssin' on the set when a n*gga Dee, sleepin'
pus*y ass
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*gga 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 pus*y in your face and they can suck and di*k
Ridin' and slidin' with all that workin' and twerkin'
You can't be no "G", 'cause a "G" not down with j*rkin'
Them n*ggas always comin' with that play
You want some real drama, why don't you bring that sh*t our way?
'Cause I'm a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk
Stuntin' in a concert, take it to the f*ckin' trunk
Talkin' all that bullsh*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 pussies in the can
[Interlude: Mr. Ivan & Li Wayne]
The rhymes you are about to hear are true
This some true sh*t

[Verse 2: B.G.]
Chuck f*ckin' them n*ggas at night
They doin' bad and slangin' rhymes at the same time (Ain't lyin'!)
Now, this n*gga is a muthaf*ckin' di*k beater
Hear that con? He was a muthaf*ckin' cheerleader
f*ckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served
I'ma leavin' ya muthaf*ckin' thinking cap on the curb
Chuck got some mail? 'cause oh yes, I'm comin' to getcha
And if I don't get 20 G's I'ma splitcha
I'm a murderer, server, n*gga 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 'cause Ca$h Money didn't want'cha
Let's move across that water strapped with that AK
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 di*k right in your mouth
Them n*ggas 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 ass n*ggas to raise up, raise up, raise up
[Verse 3: B.G.]
At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that n*gga to f*ck wit
That goes to show you studio yeah that n*gga buck quick
You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to runnin'
'Cause I'm comin', start duckin', 'cause 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*ggas who help you get the money you straight f*ck 'em
When check time comes, they gets nothin', you pluck em
And y'all hoes for lettin' him take it
Hard rolled and fake it
n*ggas best to look like skatin'
Now back to this muthaf*ckin' Mystikal b*tch
You wanna jump on a n*gga like a morphodyke come jump on the di*k
That's enough of this hoe sh*t on the real
If you don't spit "G" sh*t with skills you can't pay bills I make mils
I close the shop for them n*ggas wanna shine
Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine
Don't whine, n*ggas 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

[Verse 4: B.G.]
Partners you bet not do no crime
Get no time and go to jail
'Cause in that two man cell, best believe you gone get nailed
Mystikal you's a hoe, it's time I Iet'cha know
Y'all ain't ready for Local five, got a boot camp full of 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 'cause you n*ggas 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 off Valence, ain't no doubt this B.G. ain't real
I'm bout to- *hiccup* hiccup some bullets out my f*ckin' steel
Peel, make n*ggas kneel, bow down
From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground
It's time a n*gga 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