Tru Dudes

[Verse 1] Is it really that bad that my clothes is tight? That I hydrate babes like Pedialyte That I stay rock hard like a meteorite Thought your homeboy here was an idiot right? Well, ya thought wrong, I got flavor I rock shows with the blue lightsaber I hit dimes but also date eighters I make moves, blow up like Al-Qaeda I'm in kicks that you can't buy yet Ya kicks okay like your name Wyatt Care Bear Clockers, pink highlighters Haters wanna snatch my heat like firefighters Boys out there think they just like me Naw naw, y'all funny, y'all from UCB? Y'all standin' in line, I'm in VIP Y'all know shit 'bout me like TIP, hah! [Hook] Ooh, bum bumbumbum bum bumbumbum [Verse 2: MC Chris] Think your voice's funny man, that's kind of hilarious I'm the rapper makin' noise when there's shadow in your area I’m like a damager cause I’m a little loquacious I do it for the hotties with the bodies bodacious I'm high pitched, might flip if ya diss my node Think Chris ain't the shit, you can kiss my chode Weak ass sales, not too early to boast Seriously bro, hand over the security code Because my rhymes so fresh, green grocers' gotta spray 'em Fired all my lawyers cause I didn't wanna pay 'em From the PM to the AM I'll slay 'em with the sawed-off Make a little money and I'll smoke the marijuana MC without Glover is Murtaugh without Riggs Jam and peanut butter with the crust cut off for kids One smokes Kinds, the other smokes Mids Let's mix it up a little like the DJ did Bacardi and Coke, black and white cookie Smokin' in the alley cause you know we're playin' hooky We're up to no good, please don't tell our mamas Don't mock us [?] cause we got this for Obama [Hook] [Verse 3] Sicker than Old Yeller, money like bank tellers The chicks that I'm with are thicker than Nutella Y'all need to switch quick and get with a sick fella Cause I'm bout to go Rihanna like I'm an Umbrella Come over to my place, we can cut like shears And make some mistakes like Jamie Lynn Spears I'm nasty? No. Forward? Yes I'm hip to the game, you're a rook like chess My money so long that they call it John Silver's Your money so light that it fluff like pillows Boutique killers, you can see They close up shop when the clerks see me I'm not Kanye, but my collar's popped Cause the bro's like soda, I shit you not This shit's bright orange, Fanta shade You got the yellow face, that's my lemonade I'mma try to stay tight like girls that fuck hard Stay in the Bay with green like Brett Farve [Hook x3]