Artist: Timbo King f/ Icepick, Self Rachet, Sharecka Album: 56 Platoon, Vol. 1 Song: True Talk Typed by: Tha Masta [Sharecka] Yeah, yo, yup Hoodtrepeneurs, that's what they taught me They said, boy you'll never be a star Never buy a house, never push a lavish car But I ain't mad at y'all cuz I got phatter songs Better hooks than your's, make Flex drop a bomb Jealousy gets you nowhere Since '88, I've been spittin', how many cats I've burnt, don't even gotta go there I taught a lot of rappers how to give light when it was dark Matched their lyrics together than take 'em apart When I met cats, they was green in the booth Gettin' no love from engineers, why is he in the booth? Y'all can't get mad cuz I only be, speakin' the truth Grown-ass niggaz, you on ya own now, I'm for the youth No more sittin' back, talkin' 'bout who nicer than who When I'm nicer than whoever, yeah, I'm gettin' cheddar Stack chips, save for the cold weather Since I got rid of the lames, we livin' more better [Interlude: Sharecka] Yeah, B.V.I., Brook, new and improved, yeah, Sha the Recka Uh, Hoodtrepeneurs, Cyborg Nation, yeah, one [Self Rachet] Yo, niggaz is pussy, funny niggaz get extorted For them chips, and for them bricks they imported Niggaz you ain't ranked, baller status Player, you rank police informant status Claimin' to be knowin', but you don't be knowin' I leave you leakin' on the block, black talons leave ya flesh showin' Spit fluent, can't stop the God, gotta pop the God If I make the player big than cop the 'gar Thug niggaz stay black down I'm from the city, best believe a nigga hold a pound [Interlude: Self Rachet] Yeah, Self Rachet, Recka, another hit, man You know how we do, B.V.I., B plus 1-1, holla [Icepick] You last in the game, they leavin' just as fast as they came Just smash in the lane, runnin' all of they cash and they chain Most ain't as bad as they claim, sat when they aim Plus a slug coulda took like half of they brain I make a move like a pastor in prayin' Master the game, until no other master remain Massacre reign, on those claimin' challengin' after the name Lookin' like a ass in this game, trapped in a maze While we laugh in ya face, until ya fuckin' trash is replaced Cuz sick niggaz like y'all crash into Jake It's the block coolers, rock rulers and spot troopers With messages from an exorcist that got to ya Life's a endless ride, on a freeway The combination of hustlin' speed play or part of hustlin' weed gates Keep safe, knowledge escape if the street chase Police play, big part of the skeptism Keep a catch wreck system and a cash cheque system Full of snapped neck victims, with pack vexism Nine flavor, rhyme neighbor, catch wreck with 'em It's the block coolers, rock rulers and spot troopers With messages from an exorcist that got to ya [Outro: Icepick] B.V.I., yeah Yeah, East Gatbush, youknowI'msayin'? 50, 56, 57, 58, youknowI'msayin'? Church Ave, youknowI'msayin'? Gutter, mothafuckin' P-City, you know how we do it, baby Word up, Rachets, Recka, Timbo, word up What up my niggaz? East Gatbush, youknowI'msayin'? 50, word up Yeah...