True Story by Shyheim
True Story lyrics
[Intro: King Just (Shyheim)]
From the top (uh) hehehe, yeah (Shyheim, nigga)
KJ (Yeah, now we got King Just, nigga)
10304 way (this the grain, man, you ain't shit to beef)
In the hallway
[King Just]
I heard them young boys coming up, I heard them old dudes
Givin' up, or takin' later, and they still want King Just
Is it a miracle? Nah man, he's lyrical
Physically fit, cuz, trust, it get's physical
It prescribed in the biblical, burn the ritual
Down to his very last mineral
I will finish you, with a finishing move
Gotta show and prove, and give Stella 'back her groove'
Always want to push a CL smooth, on the Staten Island Ferry
Love boat, it's where we cruise
Keep 'em in two's, like Noah did, the flow'll spit
With a car, that'll talk back to your ass like Kit
Michael Knight two thousand and four, can you endure
The north shore, what the fuck, you think we came for?
Ain't no standin' around, you clown, we get down
All you unidentified aliens, head out of town
Cue mix down, pass the Remy round, Bottom Up
King Just, I still hold my crown, I'm next up, what
[Chorus: King Just (sung)]
You ain't got nothin' for us
You can't see Shy or King Just
Why actin' like you wanna start some beef?
You betta stay in your place now
You ain't got no wins, no how
We are the hottest shit that's out the streets
[Shyheim]
I was on the run, gettin' drunk, smokin' wet, poppin' ecst'
With two outstandin' fugitive warrants for my arrest
Owed a debt to society, one day I will pay
But I fell in love, in L.A., and decided to stay
Livin' on the edge, the Dom 'Cino, wired me bread
Til' he got snatched by the feds, it fucked me up in the head
He kept it thorough, he ain't tell 'em, I invested dope for the dough
He told me keep flowin', cuz for him it ain't no hope
Now this is real conversation, and for little to next to nothing
Conversation, RZA let me spit on compilations
I'm like, "Cool, but how ya'll gonna put Snoop and not me on The W?"
It was politicals as usual, and I hated it
So I got my weight up with my pen, and made some greater hits
Now the whole world say my shit
Livin' on the borderline of life or death
Livin' to die, dyin' to live, life or death
Don't except shit, but a funeral of kisses and flowers
My own homies don't love me, they just respect my power
Started wildin', moms paid drugs more attention
Ended up down state, B-Block reception
But The Source and XXL ain't mentioned it
Clan ain't holla at the God and send me out
Guess that's the same reason, Dirty with The Roc now
But I'm home on the grind, with a rhyme and a nine
With some paper set aside, for ya body and son
It was about time, my nigga, we definetly gon' pop
And thought you just gon' deal with the cops?
Chill Shy, but I can't hear it, cuz the dust sepa'
Ran it for my mind, and my body, for my spirit
[Chorus]
[Outro: Shyheim]
How we gon' keep it going like this, man?
I remember back in the days, man
Before this Wu-Tang shit, man
I used to have to sneak into - to the Hill and shit
Put my hood on and shit, go up to Just's house
And we can write rhymes and shit, knowhatimsayin?
Just, you my nigga forever, nigga, let's go to the top, man
Bottom Up, nigga, knawimean?
And it's love, loyalty, trust, respect and honor
Always hundred, 'cross the board, nigga
Let's do it
|
