B.G. (Baby Gangsta)

B.G. (Baby Gangsta) - True Story lyrics

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[Mr. Ivan]



Right now we got a lil' youngsta

Lil' Doogie, from the B.G.'z

Do what'cha gotta do mane

Say what'cha gotta say Wayne



[Lil' Wayne]

The rhymes you are about to hear are true



[Mr. Ivan]

This some true shit.



[First Verse-B.G.]



Shoulda killed you bitches when we heard that song

Tipped it on, talkin' bout 6th & Baronne

When the fuckin' lights on up early in the mornin' , 

All that muthafuckin' creepin'

Pissin' on the set when a nigga Dee, sleepin'

Pussy ass

You know you can't survive,

You was creepin' through that third, you must don't know it's do or die

Now that nigga on my list

A P-poppin' bitch no disresp

P-Poppin' bitch no disresp

P-poppin', P-Poppin', P-Poppin' bitch no disrespect to the tenth

But there's a pussy in your face and they can suck and dick

Ridin' and slidin' with all that workin' and twerkin'

You can't be no "G", cuz a "G" not down wit jerkin'

Them niggas always comin' with that play,

You want some real drama, why don't you bring that shit our way?

Cuz I'm a Baby Gangsta down for that street funk,

Stuntin' in a concert, take it to the fuckin' trunk

Talkin' all that bullshit, talkin' all that shit on wax,

Talkin' all that yak-yak, but I'ma split your Kool-Aid pack bitch

I got my pistol close at hand, this for the REAL,

Real pussies in the can



[Bridge One-Lil Wayne/Mr. Ivan]



The rhymes you are about to hear are true.

This some true shit.



[Verse Two-B.G.]



Chuck fuckin' them niggas at niggggggggggght

They doin' bad and slangin' rhymes at the same time, ain't lyin'!

Now this nigga is a muthafuckin' dick beater

Heard at Corn(?) he was a muthafuckin' cheerleader

Fuckin' wit a B.G., best believe you will get served

I'ma leavin' ya muthafuckin' thinking cap on the curb

Chuck got some mail?  Cuz oh yes, I'm comin' to get'cha

And if I don't get 20 G's I'ma split'cha,

I'm a murderer, server, nigga come try to test

Had to put'em to rest, no vest but one to the chest

But uh, you know you done fucked up don't cha?

Like Yella said, you mad cuz Ca$h Money didn't want'cha

Let's move across that water strapped with that A.K.

They got some wannabe crips, wanna bang, go to L.A.

Now you can claim, the East, North, West, or South

Mystikal fool, you can pump this dick right in your mouth

Them niggas be rappin', very much trippin'

Talkin' all that nonsense, slippin' talkin' bout they be crippin'

But it's like this, watch out before you get bucked

I'm tellin' coward ass niggas to raise up, raise up, raise up



[Third Verse-B.G.]



At first he was a cheerleader now he ain't that nigga to fuck wit

That goes to show you studio yeah that nigga buck quick

You duck sick when I catch'cha, you best to start to runnin',

Cuz I'm comin', start duckin', cuz I'm bustin', and pluckin'

Fuck it

Chuck, you big trick, you hoe bitch,

Puttin' stank hoes in apartments and shit

And ummm, them niggas who help you get the money you straight FUCK EM

When check time come, they gets nothin', you pluck em

And y'all hoes for lettin' him take it,

Hard rolled and fake it,

Niggas best to look like skatin'

Now back to this muthafuckin' Mystikal bitch

You wanna jump on a nigga like a morphodyke come jump on the dick

That's enough of this hoe shit on the real

If you don't spit "G" shit with skillz you can't pay bills I make mils

I close the shop for them niggas wanna shine

Sign on my nine when I put it on your mind into your spine

Don't whine, niggas can't handle me not hard

I'm the bitch who came to fuck up the party

When I catch'cha I'ma kill ya don't worry, 

This is another part of that fuckin' true story



[4th Verse-B.G.]



Partners you bet not do no crime,

Get no time and go to JAIL

Cuz in that two man cell, best believe you gone get NAILED

Mystikal you'z a hoe, it's time I Iet'cha know

Y'all ain't ready for Local five, got a boot camp fulla hoes

I'm gat totin', ready to leave your heart open

Bullets floatin', hot nine chambers smokin'

Uptown, ya bound to get y'all wig split

Y'all represent a 17th set that don't even exist

Now that's a shame, you reppin' just to get a name

You can't survive in this game cuz you niggas lame

I'm ready to take it to some "G" shit, street shit

Where caps get peeled, and wigs bound to get split

I'm off Valence, ain't no doubt this B.G. ain't real

I'm bout to *hic* hiccup some bullets out my fuckin' steel

Peel, make niggas kneel, bow down

From this clown that's gonna put you six in the ground.

It's time a nigga put Big Boy where the fuck they belong

Rollin' wit Tec-9 best believe it's on

Raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up, raise up
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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