Trae tha Truth
Shit (Remix)
[Intro: Future]
Oh, you know you ain't got all them guns
And you ain't killed nobody yet
How many times you shot that muhfucka?
Ain't nobody popped up dead
Shit!

[Hook: Future]
Talking 'bout you popping tags, n***a you ain't bought shit
Talking bout a hunned bottles, n***a you ain't popped shit
All you talk nana clips, n***a you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, n***a you ain't fuck shit

[Verse 1: Trae]
?

[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
Thirty in the clip catch the whole thing
Feds know a n***a by his whole name
Shoot him in his head for his gold chain
You was running ball, we was sellin' cocaine
Talkin bout you buyin' bricks, n***a you ain't got shit
We was sellin' all them keys, we was like the locksmith
Twenty-Five hundred for the red bottoms
Balmain five bands for the waist n***a
I'm rollin' through my city in a new Rolls Royce
Cheif Keef 300 for the Wraith n***a
A.K, S.K, H.K n***a, three K's like I hate n***as
And I'll put you in your place n***a
You got shoebox money I got a safe n***a holdup
[Hook: Future]
Talking 'bout you popping tags, n***a you ain't bought shit
Talking bout a hunned bottles, n***a you ain't popped shit
All you talk nana clips, n***a you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, n***a you ain't fuck shit

[Verse 3: Jeezy]
Made the Forbes and I'm straight up outta projects
Still running with them n***as with that work check
It go "Brrrrrrrr" with the choppa
That's the only way the pussy 'posed to stop ya
Pour out a little liquor, one in every got a ghetto
Stack a 20 bill, n***a, tall as Carmelo
Winter olympic games and the categories caine
Bet ya one fuckin' thing, I'll win a gold medal
Why ya actin' like a bitch? Lil Jon, my n***a
Don't you ever doubt me, I'm like LeBron, my n***a
I ain't takin' no shorts, bitch, I hit it with the fork
Fuck a wrist game, use my whole arm, my n***a
Snowman, bitch, y'all know me
Fourth quarter pressure on 'em like Kobe
Act like my shit don't stink, pocket feel like a bank
Neck lookin' like a 40 ounce of O.E
Tell me why my album selling, they ain't murder me yet
If they do, bury me in a burgundy 'Vette
Talk behind my back, you could hate me all ya want
But them same fuck n***as ain't shot shit yet
Yeah, you see me on Gangland, as real as it get
They just rappin' about it, I was livin' that shit
Straight up
[Hook: Future]
Talking 'bout you popping tags, n***a you ain't bought shit
Talking bout a hunned bottles, n***a you ain't popped shit
All you talk nana clips, n***a you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, n***a you ain't fuck shit

[Bridge: T.I.]
This for my n***as when they walk up out the house, they (turn it)
Fuck what ya mouth say (turn it, turn it)

[Verse 4: T.I.]
Fully automatic rifle, 100 round drum on it with a scope
I done had that, n***a (Brrrrrrr, stick 'em)
I ain't playing with these n***as, just kill 'em, turn it
N***a talk shit, I'll blast that n***a
Shoot his ass right in front his homeboys
Kill the party, drove off and then stab that n***a
Everyone vicinity hear the boy ho noise
I'm the Zone 1 king, from a whole one thing
Threw a 100 on it, shawty, I was doing my thing
You tryna get a million, I done did that
Aye, keep it pimpin', keep a ticket where I live at
Aye, listen, sucka, I got nothin' for ya but a new coffin
I'll shoot you walkin' 'fore you get through talkin', n***a!
Catch me walkin' in ya hood, trench coat swingin'
Mask on, step up on ya front porch bangin'
Them Bankhead n***as, they a muhfucka, ain't they?
I'm the realest, richest n***a that you know today famous
Catch ya flaggin' in ya hood and ya wanna be a gangsta
In ya skinny jeans in arenas entertainin'
No matter how you paint it, better see the big picture
I'll get ya, n***a, wit' ya, then hit ya n***a!
[Hook: Future]
Talking 'bout you popping tags, n***a you ain't bought shit
Talking bout a hunned bottles, n***a you ain't popped shit
All you talk nana clips, n***a you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, n***a you ain't fuck shit