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pimp c - true story lyrics
[intro: pimp c]
true story lil’ b-tch
[?] [?] smoke sum’ b-tch
[verse 1: pimp c]
drop seven in the pot, hit it with the soda
now i got what them cali boys call a1 yola
the south is circles and them atlanta is squares
lying about the prices, it ain’t seventeen up there
i’m down with young buck and buck is down with pimp c
but ain’t n0body got of a ten in no d-mn tennessee
it might be twenty-seven or might be twenty-three
dawg and biz used to come and get it for 16 from me
they had two n-ggas that were driving sh-t back
and they were serving t.i. took his b-tch and his lac, his jury and his money and his 5.0
she had a baby for priest but still my ho
she was translating spanish with the mexican
tryna get a better price, t got f-cked in the end
she a square now, dawg and biz both dead
p-ssy n-gga t got locked in the feds
that was his ferrari in the juve video
the b-tch k!lled dawg cause he was f-cking his ho
same time, t was f-cking dawg wife
shawty from the back, t a b-tch for life
you can see me in the streets b-tch, better keep steppin’
because even on parole, i’m ice-cold with the weapon
so r.i.p to big doe and his mother, but atleast before you die
k!ll your p-ssy -ss brother
[hook: xvii]
you n-ggas ain’t real, you lying on your records, you f-cking with the trill
so n-gga come check us, lil b-tch
a true story lil’ b-tch, a true story lil’ b-tch, hold up!
( x2 )
[verse 2: xvii]
aye look they call me young rayful, i keep that white b-tch
so drop it in a pot, p-ssy n-gga get rich
the ‘lac sittin’ pretty, all black chrome lid
i keep it occupied by a bad yellow b-tch
she stay out on the stroll tryna get daddy rich
a couple pink booties entered with the b-tch
i done lost everything that i own but my d-ck
the music ain’t nothin’, so i had to push bricks
so i hit the f-ckin’ slab for the 16.5
f-ck scorin’ at the crib cause that sh-t too high
bad b-tch, fake t-tties push ’em home in the ride
pop a xanax pill, two cars behind
aye look my nerves f-cked up i just spent 82.5
if she get pulled over n-gga, then i might as well die
but i’m a make it home n-gga, set that b-tch on fire
for every 36 b-tch i’m making 72
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