Artist: Trae f/ Boss Album: Tha Truth Show Song: Bitches Ain't Shit Typed by: Lil Hustle (*talking*) Yeah, you must be a motherfucking fool To think, we ain't staying on this underground shit Trae the Truth nigga, Asshole By Nature Slow Loud And motherfucking Bangin nigga We bout to bring it, to your motherfucking ass (it's like this and like that, and like this and uh It's like this and like that, and like this and uh) That's what it is, that's what I represent I'm in your motherfucking hood, like the President [Trae] Maury gators on my toes, so my kick game sick You in anything less, you better put em up quick See me balling through the hood, like I hit another lick I had to tell em I'm the truth, all the rest riding dick Niggaz better get they grown man on, fucking with me If they see a nigga strut, it ain't nothing less than a G See I roam around the block, like I'm looking for a hoe Yeah I'm posted in the drop, on a nice amount of chrome Boys got me wrong, I'm still king on the throne Sponsored by the hood, so it's swangas when I roam Sitting in my zone, with five on my waist If they looking drop the top, so these haters see my face I'm back with a bad attitude, niggaz be acting gay I'm bout to put em on they pussy, for fucking with Mr. Trae I should of signed with Dr. Dre, cause I'm a A.W.A. A Asshole With a Attitude, bitch what you say Jump up, boys'll get thrashed Pop my trunk, when certified trash On a nigga ass, I lean so fast Fucking with the streets, you get broke like glass Shit don't stop, I mob off top Plus my lil' brother, just hit the cell block My mind half gone, I dont hit another zone I advise motherfuckers, leave me alone Flipping my slab, gripping my grain Missing Big H.A.W.K., so my trunk banging "Swang" I do it for the hood, ain't shit gon change Plus my wrist game, threw haters out of range I use to be broke, now they say I look strange Prolly cause my do's flying up, like planes Nigga, Lil' Trae don't play no games I'm a P-I-M-P, full speed through your dame I'm loved by blue, and my niggaz in the flame These niggaz better chill, I'm the Truth in the game Leather cocaine, so you know it's white mayn If you want me on a song, get the price right mayn Keep yelling my name, I'll put it on your brain I'm the leader of the gang, read the A.B.N. chain (*talking*) Yeah, boys got me fucked up mayn I got this Matter fact, I ain't letting it go nowhere This Trae the motherfucking Truth nigga, Lil' Boss [Boss] Slumping the corner in my coupe cocked, going up the block Got it soft to rock, plus my shit hot One hop straight to the street top, plus my beat knock H.P.D.'s on a G's cock, nigga please stop Got a ticket for throwing away a ticket, when they stopped me Punching it is gold, on my old school Galoppi Who gon block me, watch for the paparazzi who gon pop me I'm posted with my switchbox, now who the fuck gon hop me I try to keep it bread up, and handle niggaz head up They asked who put the slash in the block, them niggaz said us I'm hopping out the black Lac again, same black mack again In the same, black backpack again I'ma show ya, I'm a Hoover with a ruger The hollow points I'm packing, might slide right through ya Maneuver the scene, I'm in a all black Cougar Straight face up in court, like a nigga never knew ya Point blank to your face, before you scream halleluya Got the fever of the flavor, so a nigga gotta do ya Coming through your window, looking like McGyver to ya Made plans for the mob, but it seems you dying sooner So I stay's in your head, kinda like a mind tumor 'Fore a nigga rip off, like a out of line rumor Bitch say she fucked Boss, but I never ran through ya Bitch mad, cause her coochie hole smell like old tuna I know this beat old, might sound old to ya But it's picked out by Trae, Grey, Boss and the Junior Certified gangsta, slash certified shooter Plus the paint on the whip, like the water in laguna I took another trip, to go and buy another puma Threw her in a Chevrolet, and sent that bitch to the groomer