Tru 2 Da Game (disc One)

Monster: welcome to our house, the only one on the block with its very
Own torcher chamber....

[c-murder]
I ain't scared to die
So welcome to my muthafuckin torcher chamber
Disrespect my crew, bitch you in danger
C-murder who i be, tru is my click
My minds on killin but in the process t'm gettin rich
Ain't got no time for no niggaz that be stuntin
Cause my mind gone
I'm workin with a little bit of nothin
Niggaz wanna know,"why they call you c-murder?"
Cause i don did more shit the average nigga never heard of
Since i lost my brother
I'm always ready to shoot up
They say i went crazy ever since i tooed up
They say i went to jail i got that tru up on my stomach
On my back and my arm, cause niggaz ain't funny
Cause i'm no limit for life
A motherfuckin soldier
This will be your last dance
I tried i told ya
Flippin quarters to ones
And ounces to quarter keys
[cause niggaz from the south stack g's]
1-8-7 always on my mind, to you playa haters
Fuck y'all, no limit ain't hard to find
Like i said before, you fools can't get me
A lot of niggaz scared to stand in the same room wit me
So don't fuck wit me unless you trying your fuckin wig split
C-murder don't take no bullshit

Chorus: i ain't scared to die
So welcome to my chamber
Kill em all [boom]
Your life is in danger
(4x)

[c-murder]
They label me an outkast
So an outkast what the fuck i be
Specialize in homicides
And slangin "d"
Cause every muthafucking thing i do, is drug related
Nigga what you ain't got my money
I sure hate it
Be get that tey
It's time to pull a hard card
I'm like the devil, shootin niggaz make my dick hard
Ridin on his set
I'ma catch him slippin
C-murder like to see a nigga blood drippin
Man make the money
But money don't make the man
Rest in peace nigga
This will be your last dance
Cause fuckin wit my crew,
Is like pissin on my set,
I man don't whoop ass,
The poke gon break your neck,
And if that don't stop ya
Serv gon rock ya
"p" gon pop ya
And silkk gon shock ya
Cause once nigga, always a nigga
Don't get no harder than me
Cause when i kill ya, they won't find ya
So bitch don't fuck wit "c"
Nigga break yourself
You heard what i said
Two attempts on my life
Muthafuckas want me dead
But i ain't paranoid cause i can't be stopped
Sittin on half a key
And i'm still slangin rocks
Cause i'm from the projects,where murder rates rise
But i'm still gettin paid
Cause i ain't scared to die, slangin 24-7
My life is in danger
Welcome to the torcher chamber

Chorus: (4x)

[silkk the shocker]
Once apon a time in a crack house (a crack house)
A nigga was chopping up a key (a key)
It was drought season (season)
And everybody was fiending (fiending)
So they had to come and buy their dope from me

It all started back in the crack house
When i was counting up some dope and some mail
Now beaucoup pagers for sale
But i ain't have no more fucking yail
I had to get me some more
But all the dope is stupid move kinda slow
Black adam we gonna go bust down in texas
You know that's where i get my dope at
Taz was sweating kinda harder
So i took that plane ride to georgia
But just remember that i was sitting on that thang
And that half that i got down in florida
I had a bird but i chopped it up and i put it down to rocks (rocks)
That's when i make my come up, i hit my fucking block
Fiends was constant fucking sweating, now get out da door
I chop dimes to nickels, fuckers wanna see me chop some more
10's grow to 20's, 20's grow to 50's
We need some yale, holla at your nigga
Or just come and get me

[c-loc]
Dear god can you hear me
My love for money's gonna kill me
Ya got me selling crack to the children
And its a shame cuz i love how i'm living

Peekin out the window, tryin to cope with a run of that indo
Parinoid as the fuck while i'm breaking down this kilo
Like some money to be made, ain't had dope in four days
As the fiends knock i keep off the block till mr. gets paid
Selling phat packs, when i first react it's like dat
Pay man in flat
Throwing this block of dope trying to make my money back
Front you something bitch, front me some dollars
But if you ain't got no g's, shit nigga i can't hollar
Cause way down in the bayou swamps
When niggas quick to get with some funk
This hard as the fucker come up
So the last thang i need is a begging motherfucker
Stay strapped up, whenever if you will get tapped up
The dope gang, fuck
I live for it, nigga quick to kill for it
Made 10 g's today, bout to get up and outie
(loc, why don't you let your bro hold ten dollars)
Shit i ain't got it

Chorus x2 (silkk & mo b dick)

Pop, pop, pop, pop goes my nine (tru niggas ride dirty an stay strapped)
Every time i think about the times you did me wrong (pop goes the nine)

Verse 1 (silkk)

See me an my click
We be hoppin outta range rover
Everyday taz test,sober
Fightin fellon convictions, barely missin angola
On the run, it's hell
Fresh outta jail
That's no life, carry me a nine, cops chase away the 4-5
My girl ask me why i carry the nine, with the clip in
I said niggas blast me if they catch a nigga slippin
Yall trippin
Yall gave my hommie 25 with a "l"
But the nigga that killed my cousin, yall let that nigga out on bail
So i say, fuck this
And i hit the corner on the streets
Keep my nine up on the seat
And hold my nine like a g
Cuz i'ma hustle 'til i fall
I'ma have it all ball
Fuck them niggas i have nine up in my draws
No time to pause, as i smash off in the dust like what
Keep my nine, cuz its the only thing i can trust
An every since ice cube said, it's really been a trip
I'd rather be
Judged by 12 than be carried by 6. that's why its...

Chorus x2

Verse 2 (master p)

Picture me rollin, rest in peace pac
I'm ridin in my 500 s-e-l strapped with my plastic glock
Me an my bitch, we be hella tight
Fit in the palm of my hand
But i ain' t trustin a nigga tonight
I ain't walkin out the door unless i got my bitch
My american express, nigga, this will be it
Seven-teen kids to tag along
Hollow tips, black jack, call me al capone
But i'm dirty like harry
I keep a 9 millimeter cuz i ain't gettin buried
My glock be special like ed
All yall nigga ain't strapped
Might end up in the body-bag...

Chorus x2

Verse 3 (kane & abel)

Pop, pop, goes the ruger out the lexus landcruiser
Best of slow ya roll hoe
'fore i put some holes through ya
Boo-yah, my fifty calliber got niggas runnin back to africa
Bitch banged up my passport so i'm swervin in my acura
Grabbin on my dick
Smokin the shit
Momma kicked me out the house
I smack that bitch
Now i'm skandelous and rich
Mia-x said we got it tweekin
Them niggas tweekin
No limit got some gangsta shit for the mexicans and puerto ricans
New york to l.a., miami to atlanta
Black talons from my nine got them dancing the macereña
Little kids in my hood slang dope an talk shit
By some violence, brah
Pass the silencer, pop that bitch...
I'm in my navy blue beamer suckin on weed
Holdin the streets
As we brain off that vodka
We're still in the nigga chopper
Gun slangin with pussy juice on my trigger finger
Its kane an abel, now who da bitch-made nigga banger...

[chorus x 2]

[master p]

Check it out playa
Nigga gotta protect ya motha-fuckin self fa the 9-skrilla
Nigga ya need to grab ya motha-fuckin nine 'fore ya grab ya shoes
Cuz nigga only got 1 life to lose
An a nigga gotta protect his own, playa
Nigga, live eye 4 an eye that's how tru niggas live
An if yall real bout the situation
Nigga, trust no mutha-fuckin body
Let cha mutha-fuckin gun be ya friend, nigga
Cuz ya enemy might be right next to you.huh, remember that playa...
Pop-pop goes the nine, nigga
But tru niggas ride dirty an stay strapped
An we bout it

[chorus fades]

-yo, big mann, what's happenin?
-just out here chillin, dawg
-shit, nigga, what you chillin, what you thinkin about?
-nigga, i'm out here reminiscin, lookin around, nigga
-reminiscin on what?
-bout how shit done changed, dawg
-all these niggaz dead we grew up with bro baby, daniel
-damn, bro, this shit daily, constantly happenin
-so what, we next or what?
-nigga, we tryin to come up and raise them little ones
-well, let's find a way out this shit
-well, let's do dat there

[master p]
Niggaz dat want to space age hustle
Catch that rocket to the fuckin moon
That be yo final ship, bitch, cause yo ass is doomed
Ain't no comin back, livin in the dope game
Cause once you die, nigga you slangin rocks, then that's yo name
On the wall when they run up,
I got killas coming trough with bubble ups to pick up double ups
And put him in that muthafuckin long black hearse
I mean, once you gone nigga you layin in the dirt
Ain't no love in new orleans,
All the way to richmond, california
Niggaz livin for ghetto dreams
And the ghetto get so crazy
I seen a little bitty baby suckin on daisies
Caught two to the chest, one to the head
5 niggaz walked behind him dressed in red
With ski masks, but niggaz thought it was a clown show
Witches in the st. bernard projects, downed a hoe
And it's sad cause niggaz claimin 3rd ward
9th ward and niggaz claimin 10th ward
All my homies be dyin down south
Run around, talkin shit, killas with gold in they mouth
But i'm a soldier, a rolla, give me ten
I'd rather die than go to the fuckin pen
My partna bos looked to my eyes and said, "nigga
Is it time for change, niggaz ain't livin in this dope game"
So we jumped into this rap game
And laid it down to all my killas
That tried to teach my nigga the game
Cause once you gone, ain't no comin back
Talked to randall and t-dove
They say, "p, the streets ain't all that."
I mean the calliope projects done change
Right from roges tablet you find the fuckin police man
And niggaz still servin bubble ups
Big mo in the projects rappin, and niggas=z tryin to come up
And with this new wave dope game,
I mean this rap game, niggaz tryin to get out to make some change
But down south my homies dyin, niggaz fryin
But stories we ain't buyin

Chorus: repeat 2x

Who (2pac gone, but what rapper) gon be next
To take that final ride (i hope it ain't me who)
Get cashed like a bad check (slammin cadillac doors)
Black hearses when they should be 6-0's

[silkk]
I often wonder wonder if there's a heaven or a hell
Rest in peace to my niggaz that died
Too bad when they died they couldn't come back and tell
If they really is another side, i seen his mother cry
I just wanna know where he went when my cousin died
That last step, then it's yo debt, yo last breath
Then it's the moment you fear
Just think, by the day over, one of us ain't gon be here
Used to ride with a bunch of niggaz, now he's ridin solo
He's dressed up in a suit, when he used to wear polos
I wonder if there's a heaven for a gangsta, a killa, and a shoota
I wish some nigga gunned john gotti had went in the chamber
Moms say my days are numbered cause i live wrong
Even scarface made a song, gangstas really don't live long
I'm tryin to live to a rock candy painted cadillac like outkast say
Ride on them thangs like mack 10, from back side to side like u.g.k.
Convertible lexus like eightball, mjg
500 like my brother master p, i'm a shock the world if i see 23
Maybe not today, but tomorrow off into the funeral parlor
Take pause to bury my boy, as we roll up to the grave yard

Who gon be next...to take that final ride?

Chorus

[c-murder]
I done seen mo crime than a crime lord
Sometimes i sit back and think i seen more death than god
Just last week a nigga got shot up and burned
But me i take heed to shit like that, and i learned
How can i not end up like that nigga?
What the fuck i got to do not to get banged up by that trigga?
Cause in the projects, ain't no love
Niggaz will split yo wig cause they gon on drugs (her-oin)
I hope you feel me, cause i feel the pain of others
I feel for every nigga that got to go on without they brother
But like the game, what goes around comes around
Next week that could be your muthafuckin hearse ridin through that town
That could be yo mama cryin in that steeple
Better yet, that could be you mornin the death of yo people
In the hood, i'm known for peelin caps, so i'm a cap peela
The police know me for sellin drugs, so i'm a drug deala
I reverse the game cause ain't no love for a black man
13 years old, my little cousin got juvenile life for takin a stand
It's a never endin game of death, do or die
So if you kill, be prepared for that final ride

Chorus (2x)

R.i.p. 2pac, nigga, eazy-e, segram, mr. c
And my little brother kevin
Miller, and all ya'll tru niggaz and bitches
That done died out there on these streets
And took that final ride
Y'all niggaz ain't forgotten
Cause tru niggaz live forever
Tru niggaz like us
Ya heard me? it's real nigga
We gon see ya'll fools in the crossroads

I think the lord is testin' me
Whatzup y'all, hello world, this c-murder
I'm bout to put you in the mind of a crazy
Fucked up in the head muthafucka (this nigga sick)
You know what i'm sayin?
One of the muthafuckas you see in the
News everyday, for doin' all types of crazy shit

Chorus: master p

Sometimes, i think the lord is testin me
But i'm a tru nigga
I can't let none of these niggaz
And bitches get the best of me
(repeat 4x)

[c-murder]

Muthafuckas just don't understand the shit that i be goin' through
I wanna kill myself, but i know, i gots to stay tru
Be gettin' my fuckin' hustle on, and stack my fuckin' dividends
Cuz if i ain't got no money and i'm broke, fuck friends
I feel like, i'm paralyzed cuz my own baby, won't hug me
My momma, won't let me in the house cuz she talkin' bout
She scared of me
The only reason i sell drugs is survive
The only reason i kill, is to stay alive
I'm constantly watchin' my back cuz playa haters act like hoes
But they don't wanna fuck with me cuz i turn bustas into john does
I'm not a role model so keep your kids up out my face
Talkin' bout, i'm sellin' drugs ain't doin' nothin
But killin', my own race
Police can't catch me, betta kill me, ain't gon' let 'em arrest me
They don't, understand i draw my nine faster than jesse
I've been know to have a temper, and i click quick, like this
Befo' i was crazy, but now i'm strapped and i'm sick
187 killin' murder's a hobby
Thank god, this be the charge, six counts armed robbery
Back in the free world same shit, (ain't gon' change)
Call v, say he got weed, but fuck, i need clothes man
Damn, shoud i get that ski mask g?
Should i rob him, try to get a job?
Damn, the man's testin' me

Chorus x2

[silkk]

I keep visualizin' jail cells, and closed caskets
Put a credit to the grave he blastin
Fill my coffin laughin', chewin tobaco
I'm just a gangsta livin' day to day, tryna survive
Try to stay high to realize why my homies out there die
Now why you keep on testin' me, sendin' these cops to arrest me
Put me in bad situations, but i won't let life, get the best of me
I was born in a fucked situation, but i'm not a born killa
But i've seen some shit in my time, that escaped a grown nigga
Wonder if, its a test, see how much i could hold up on my shoulder
T-r-u 'cross my stomach, on my back, a fuckin' soldier
It just don't seem right, it just don't seem right
The shit a nigga go through, makin' me wanna scream like mike
It stresses me, its only after this
I wants to know, if its a in if i kill a nigga, over self-defense
Most of my people don't like me
And a lot of 'em can't stand me
But i wonder if its a sin if i kill and rob to feed my fuckin' family
It's suvival of the fittest, you be my witness
I don't give a fuck about the money
Cuz i can't take none of that shit with me
If its a test, then let me know
But if its my time to go then let me go. amen

Chorus x2

[master p]

My record went gold, my family started money trippin
I could look into the eyes of a nigga that wants to catch me slippin'
Somebody hollered "don't go out like tupac!"
That be the same nigga tryin' to fill me up, with buckshots
The game get dirty that's why i'm blastin'
Its plenty niggas out there wanna see the p, in a casket
That's why they spread rumors, lies, i died
Niggas don't wanna see another nigga get a piece, fo the fuckin' pie
My friends trippin' cuz i got ends
Niggas don't wanna see a black nigga rolin', in a fuckin' benz
My old lady say i'm stuck up
I got to sleep with one eye open, this whole world is fucked up
Got me poppin' dono
Ask bo but he don't know what p know about the ghetto
You ain't got no dollars, you got no friends
If i go to jail how many y'all niggas gon' visit me in the pen
But if i die it be a million niggas at my funeral
They wanna see me knocked out like tyson, did bruno
If i wear red or a blue, then i'm a gang banga
If i make gangsta rhymes, huh, then i'm a dope slanga
Every nigga i used to know that didn't make it
Think i owe 'em somethin'
Every nigga i know in the ghetto, huh
Ask me to front 'em somethin'
My own company, niggas, want me to sign them up
They don't think i could work for this shit
And how hard it take to come up
They too busy, throwin' tesses (tests)
Got me strapped with pistols wearin' bullet proof vesses (vests)
Every hoe i fuck, hope the rubber pop
The media spread rumors i smoke too much weed,
I guess they wanna see me smokin' rocks.
Heh, i think the lord is testin' me
Either this a bad dream or my fuckin' mind messin' with me