The Truth

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, ain't nothin' but a muthafucken gangsta party Your lil bitch ass ain't invited This chess not checkers Better strategize better muthafucka Real famous gang banger It's the driver and the shooter in this muthafucker bitch, uh [Verse 1] My forty got a switch for all these suckas talking shit Acting like you gangsta, you's a documented snitch I'm just trying to get rich, had to hit a couple licks Never thought you'd switch but then again you just a bitch Had to go solo, snitching is a no-no Everything is slo-mo, I'm a keep it on the low-low Be a victim to the game when you're talking to the popo Bitch I'm from a gang, and you're really just a hoe though Don't want no subliminals, fuck Mr. Cr***nal You never playеd chess against a real individual In the pеn walk the main line, strap on my waistline Swifty just a bitch got slapped on the FaceTime I'm really on the block like Jordan got hang time Took a couple lives but I bet they can't take mine Really with a Glock and bitch I really bang mine Do a lot of talkin', just did a lot of state time [Dialogue] Hey, hey Diablo man, they just ran up in my house man They have me, my wife and my kids on the curb I never been through no shit like this before I didn't know what to do I swear to god I didn't snitch I didn't say anything man Well, I might've said something But, I would've never shown up to court on you You like a brother to me man I would never do that to you Man shut the fuck up, bitch [Verse 2] Let me take you back, I'm just really spitting facts How the fuck you claim that you really ain't a rat You was quick to drop a dime You was really out of line I'm a call your ass C****, you ain't never do a crime And your girl just a flirt, has she seen your paperwork? Send it to the hood, she can get the pussy merked Saw you crying on the net, must've got your feelings hurt Think you running out of time You gon' end up on a shirt What you mean it don't exist? You was talking like a bitch They was all in your crib, had you scared as a bitch Said I got it on tape, combination to your safe You'll never feel safe No more eating off my plate You as fake as they come My trigger finger numb I was sitting on your couch loading up a drum I'm really with the homies I was really catching bodies 50 drum on the K Had 'em looking like a [?] [Outro] Yeah, nothin' but a gangsta party you bitch ass muthafucka How the fuck you gonna call somebody your brother And talk to them boys Like I really got life you bitch ass muthafucker Talkin' bout, you was scared what I would do to you guys if you told me to leave