T-Bone
Album: The Last Street Preacha
Track: Tru 2 Life Playaz
 |
|
Tru 2 Life Playaz Lyrics Kinda life tha mafia if you ask me,
Who's that? All of
Them ridas from ORC, why's that?
Cuz we bad like 3
Strikers when we
Spit rhymes and preach to street
Bikers,
Or convicts in ricers,
There never ain't
No telling what we
Gonna do, cuz when you think we
Through,
We come back hit you,
Wit another hit,
Ain't no stopping me
And my gang, BoneyBone Corleone
From the MTV cut fame,
Same rapper and same rider,
Westsider,
Only difference is my beat's and rhymes
Tighter, that's real,
Now throw in tha sky if you
Down wit me,
I represent that organized rhyme family,
Family tree consist of demon killas,
Reaching drug
Dealers and top billas
Making scrilla, livin' in white
Villas,
Using guerilla tactics to reach crypts
And
Bloods and all tha thugs that are looking for love.
We's them rhyme sayers, true 2 life
Playas,
Dippin' in navigators not trippin'
On all you
Haters,
Making rider music strictly for tha
Creator,
Wit more game from tha bay
Than the Oakland Raiders.
From tha land of Chuck Taylors, khaki
Wearers and
Gang bangers, where rap
Sangers lowride and talk about
'em colored bandanas,
Ducking from one time,
California sunshine,
Projects and streets infested wit
Thugs
That are doing major crimes,
Primetime
Couldn't paint a better
Picture, best beware of them
Locs and
O.G.'s for them thugs hit ya,
Cuz where
We from it's straight scandalous,
Los Angeles,
Ain't too many players or
Ridas that can handle us,
Slugs flying in every direction you look,
Got
Homeless people living under bridges
And drug addicts
Hooked, ain't this a shame,
That's why me and my
Gang preachin', like
Deacons, to bloods, crips,
Latinos,
Blacks and Puerto Ricans,
Every weekend we
Be speakin' and preachin',
Teachin', how we
Need to be reachin' tha
Heathen, sleepin' while
Tha devils creepin',
Meetin' to put these suckas
Names on
Contracts, and lift up and raise up tha
King
Of kings like a car jack!
We's them rhyme
Sayers, true 2 life playas,
Dippin' in navigators not
Trippin' on all you haters,
Making rider music
Strictly for tha
Creator, wit more game from tha bay
Than
The Oakland Raiders.
We making moves like
A U-Haul, playa
Haters don't get it twisted like Ru
Paul,
We don G's and family,
That stick together
Like Siamese twins,
And Chinese steam rice from Chang
Lee's,
I'm tha, Bone Corleone wit Lucky
Louchiano,
Kevin Blanco and Mr. Danny Brasco,
E-Doggie Montana from Nicaragua, my
Little patna that we
Be calling Jimi Hoffa,
Can't forget about Chase
Gigante,
Cuz when I rhyme say he makes 'em
Beats
Bomb bay, hot like picante,
This is tha click that I be
Talking
About, so if you ain't down wit us
Then
Back up before you get clowned.
|
| |
 |
|
