Trued Up Songtext

von Jayo Felony

And if he goes come at me foul
I'll bust him in his bowels
For this rag fo mag bitch get shit bag
Watch me hit this fag for this sag
With this, til I die
Cripple cry
Mr. Nice Guy's dead
It's end hood
Til it haunts me with four 7's in the head
They could be strapped
I got strapped
You see its only one thing
I got this rap and they ain't goin for none of that
Comprehend like you the one who just end you're career here
When the bullets hit your cotton ball
Feels like fuck your career
I drink a beer over you're soul
Motherfucker rich roll
Catch you and your man slippin
Could and fuck up your stroll cuz
And its just how these hoodstas rolls
Talkin about is he a blood or is he a cryp
Nigga I'll sock that faggot in his big ass lips

Hook:
Put a straight jacket on me
Cause I'm throwing a tantrum
And all the crypts across the world
Y'all gone sing this anthem

Chorus:
We stay
Trued Up
Blewd up
True phat laces
True blue tux
We crypin till we die cuz
And its shoo shooed up
Copping 38 for the G-homie that use to shoot up (X2)

I'm like
N to the H to the deep blue sea
Anyone of y'all who comes against me be
D-E-A-D
And the only Jay I know
This bullet loco
Nigga
J-A-Y-O for sure F-E-L-O-N-Y
See me then die he be
Sitting up biting niggas hits
Then acting like he da shit
But see all you mobs and bustas gonna give me my respect
When you see this big ass C hanging and dangling from my neck
You like the line from under the cars
He ain't hard
It's west coast in line if you think we ain't hard
Well you think the khakis the jumps
Sagging the blue and red rags come from
We made it up ya dum-dum
Y'all niggas avoiding me now
Like a flat ass Sprite
Ya bitch love this cryp's dick up
Serving that ass right

Hook

Chorus (X2)

I been trained to escape death
Like double O seven
You can coke ya dope lope nope
It's four seven
And its some thirsty ass shorts out here
But you know well, they schooled ya
Like they go too far from your hotel there
Like a gold match and phat verbal
Or ox and antia
Them niggas a jack you, you bitch too, body guard and manager
You wake up in a cold sweat
And never leave the house
Everything you eat got a funny taste
Like that barrel in your mouth
Cuz get them riches
And hit them bitches
Got riders in ya videos and can't hit them switches
So take ya funny ass raps ya girl and ya boyfriend
And get the fuck up outta town
Cuz them niggas are poison
And they know not to fuck with the bullet loco
I'm from the East Side
Rollin 4-0

Hook

Chorus (X2)
BITCH (echoing)