Rasaq - Be True 2 It lyrics

(*talking*) Ghetto Status mayn, yeah Koopa, know I'm talking bout An underground soldier baby Military mayn, hey [Chamillionaire] 230 thousand dollas not a lot to Rasaq, get out your clock And time how long it take em, to finish building my spot I'm the hottest the South has got, if you think Chamillion is not Swallow the key and throw it out, and just make sure your mouth is locked Some look up to Pac, and some look up to The Rock But short is something I'm not, so I don't look up a lot You wearing a Jacob watch, and fronting like they were rocks When the Mix Tap Messiah drops, that B-S is finna stop I'm not gon knock a n***a, for trying to look like he doing it Be true to it, if you say you doing it and ain't doing it Then you will get exposed, you know that I'm gonna ruin it It's foolishness, sip your Hypnotic I hope you cool with it I'ma expose your cheap, thirty dolla bottle a** n***az No brain in your head, cause your head hollow a** n***az All you watching TV, I wanna date a model a** n***az I wanna go buy a more expensive bottle, than Jigga's a** n***az Yep, the tool is kept But we can take off the gloves, and we can do to d**h Don't get it mixed up, my chips up I'm glued to checks Don't get it switched up with the chicks, cause I'm smooth as Heff Yep and it ain't nothing better, than money and hoes Ok I lied about one of those, and one of em's hoes Two different types of green, yep then one of em grows Ok both of em grow, but for me it's money from shows, yep It's the King, Koopa Hey, hey, hey [Lew Hawk] I need a six foot dime, that's gon ride for me The type of broad if it's heat, she gon lie for me Stash cake for me, when it's HPD On my trail trying to see, how the crew get down 22's on the Coupe, that's how the crew get down Uptown, that's where them n***az play with K's and tech's And dump your body in them streets, if it's disrespect Different sets on channel six, keep these hoochies wet Different sets of hollow tips, keep these n***az in check I make checks from k**a flows, that I spit on tour Coming straight from the heart, from the pain I endure Locked up in a cage, with no sun for days Better play them street smart, and try to duck dark days They say, that sixty grams'll get you two for six The sixty grams in my clip, can get your wrist on lit Bracelets with them karats, sparkling nice Looking like you stuck your fist, in a block of ice But take advice from a hustla, the cops is sick I pop a snitch, it's n***az on the block that snitch I'm trying to get rich, by shaking all that white in the mix I stay in the mix hitting licks, cause my grinding to fix Better fix your frame without, when you speaking on us It's the triple C Click, and they can't f** with us Uh, Lew Hawk, uh [Rasaq] It's the young Hooligan, who could fool with him I k** beats on they two, like this is a pen Don't make me click-clack, and reload again Leave your ears are opening, the size of rolling rims Mouth full of ammo, the black Rambo Do they want me to spit for em, Cham (man, no) And your man know, I can go off like a bomb in a land so Watch where you stand, oh Judging how the hand glow, if I let the hand slow The sun will pack in gold, they know Matter of fact, the flow is so damn hot I gotta come out the throwback, Ast-ro Chickens happen to know, how we rap at the show That's why they the first to come, and the last to go She the first to come, you the last to know Can I get her a** to go, n***a