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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...