Shout 2 the True

[Intro: Cold 187um] Yo, yo, yo, yo, I wanna reminisce a little real on this one, man You know, I wanna go way back, man You know, so don't stop the tape You know, I'ma kick something so everybody know what time it is, man [Verse 1: Cold 187um] Now, here's a little story I have to tell About three young niggas, you know so well It started way back in history With my main homie K-Oss and the homie KM.G Yeah, we used to push big weight, on the north side of P-Town So you don't have to question, if we really down Check your nigga for his heart, if he's smart See, he's broke down, go and kick it in the park after dark Cause niggas be trying to short stop the work But I'm, "Nobody move, Nobody get hurt" We had to watch for the snitches, the bitches The ones that sake them bitches from them feds when they smash through Without a clue, that was scary So we had to pack up the shack and we moved down the Moeberry All the neighbors who are know on ya And all I can remember is Grace saying: Baby, I'ma pray for ya It was dooming big trouble, speedy local too We took turns when the real money came through And if the Po-Po rush anyway They be thinking all the way, they're fucking Cali 'fore they find yay We make the killing at summer Cause back then, the police was more dumber Yeah, Young black niggas, no job, no schooling Yeah, straight cluck, we was ruling I mean from Ghosttown to Cin-town, all the way to the Islands Coming through cause violence I served any mothafucker being Blood or Crip We be the last mothafuckers that was known to slip Or trip up, and I'ma help you meet your Maker That's how it is, when I'm chasing that paper, for real [Chorus: Cold 187um] (x2) I'ma keep hustling til the day I die Cause see, the rap game and pimp game is all the same So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I'm going through Then let me know to keep it true, ugh [Verse 2: KM.G] See, I can propose a toast to the illest Pimp gang in the motherfucking town And my lawer standing ground Vitals running through my mind, thinking about the time When I was like strolling, one-time patrolling the hood My knuckle K-Oss had a little-Old-Spot With a gang of rocks, and a fat-Ass-Knot Yeah, we're pushing down the block with dubs and tools Went to the little spot to scoop my nigga Daddy Cool Trigga nigga, the one that keeps the Ese's loco The one with the rough, rugged, platinum vocals He said: he loved how we're doing it, right? Busters, mad-dogging what that Clinic like But anyway, put some chemicals all up in the air And call this whore, that wants to do your fucking hair 7-up's got a lick, and we need to be lovely A smooth little taking from them fools of raw making They gave it up, like a groupie No Gun play by K-Cavy flosses, and case of Tanqueray Shoot back to the crib with the straps Then hook up at the shack with them Bel-l-rats [Chorus: Cold 187um w/ variations] [Outro: Cold 187um] Ugh, yeah, ugh, Pimp Clinic represents to the.. ugh fullest Yeah, ugh, yeah, ninety twist-style, ninety twist-style We're flipping ki's, you know what I'm saying? Hah, yeah, ugh, yeah, it's all the same Ugh, yeah, ugh