Artist: C-bo
Album: Final Chapter
Song: Tru 2 da game

Chorus
[C-bo]
Best recognize
Westside’s in the house
Set trip
We drop down and turn this muthafucka out
And bounce with the scrilla
Nigga on the realla
My crew is worth a milla
Yet these thugged out killas
Representing westcoast mafia
For life
They’ll go awol on you punk ass
Niggas till I die
Reason why
My scrilla multiply
Independent
Getting bigger off these lyrical drive bys

Verse 2

Triple beam yale is covered with dust
You catch an ak all pulled to rush
I gots to bust one of them rat that you lust
So I can get the paper stepping
In GOD we Trust
It’s the indo fanatics
Still talk automatic
Avoid the police face
High speed chase
And gun case
Still soaking up game
That was fun
From like ways a ton
I’m about to blaze the one
So shoot to my hustler
Dukes keep waking up feds
Keep waiting on
I’m so tru 2 da game
Bitches keep calling my name
It’s a shame

Chorus 2x
I’m so true to my hustla
Fools keep hating on
Feds keep waiting on me
I’m so true 2 da game
Bitches keep calling my name
It’s a shame

Verse 3
Westcoast ride
Southside solja’s keep it cracking
Like cola a1with no souljas
Still breaking down boulders
In a parkin parking lot
Like ghetto green with gangster team
Cowards with some scrillas since the age of thirteen
Had to bubble up from a shady triple beam
Know what I mean
Trying to see the green by any means
On the scene anyway get gangster 80 k
2 2 3’s shells dropping muthafuckas on the block
Shell shock in a street fight creep
Late night till the break of dawn we all ones
With the don perrion and the mix to get some
Lil break on the bud best believe he
Under this lesson on get to
Check your head rolls
With corn braids and head rolls
Waiting to rage without the booty shit

Chorus 2x
I’m so true to my hustla
Fools keep hating on
Feds keep waiting on me
I’m so true 2 da game
Bitches keep calling my name
It’s a shame

Verse 4

Riding my thoughts every tape
Get bust
Real solja like I told you
Got drunk
Fuck the bang
Feel me like
The game of wealth
City count
Buy weed and champange
I’m doing my thang and when hoes
Can’t complain
I got a mack ten
So no shame nigga
That’s why it’s a plane

Verse 5
[C-bo]
Nigga who you talk
From cali to alabama
Atlanta to new york
This man is like united
Like a sinagin G
Run up
My niggas dump heat hollow tip teflons
In a heart beat
Better recognize
The fucking california killas
Bust guts dumping 50 cals to nine millas
Over the hilla ya
Dead MNDY
Slam the truck and hit the back row

Chorus