Luyện nghe bài hát The Truth

You a lot of music but it's boring
You hear a lot of flows but enjoy 'em
You hear a lot of albums and you
But the truth is back, now say where you been

'Cause we really seen you out performing
You back up in the streets, you're hot, you're
click is the click they wanting
You know that OG Ron C gon' it for them

A lot of DJ's didn't wanna mess the kid
But like dancers love to strip, they back up on my dick
And of course, maybe because of the fact that I'm rich
And the up on my wrist look like a package of piss

Looked they pissed in a ice cube tray
Put it in the so by the next day
could put it on my wrist so that I could display
Yellow ice looks like butter but it parquet

Hey, well, let me you how I did it then
up the mix tapes and put 'em in every city man
Send 'em Greyhound, in other city and
Wallet the size of Guerilla or Biggie's hand, baby, baby

And I got plenty mo' to do, dog that's true,
Chamillitary is the click, if that's what you
Yellow, green, red white and my new jaw
Check out the paint, same cover my new car

When it come to fed, I'm the baker with the bread
Know exactly what they said, voices ain't just in my
Get back up in the streets so the can be dead
'Cause I'm the rapper that they dread, Lil' Wayne's head

Bumba claat watch, now watch me, I'm the one to
One with a lot of colored and a bunch of blocks
And the and them girls that be coming out
The closet with a friend, her I just wanna watch

Chamillion-ator's on the way who saving the day
After the math I bust a rhyme, rapping you pay
Niggaz say songs jamming, yeah that's just what they say
Like 2 of that Kelly song, they end up being gay

But it ain't Weezy, it ain't B.G
Because how much I push the money, they don't believe me
on the DVD and the CD
Don't watch me, homeboy, TV

rest, 7.5 Clarion
You ain't trying to see me shine, you carry on
Haters hate and the reason that I carry one
Make a home run and run home, like Bonds

Yeah, I got 'em shook in a
Ron of rap, look at me now
Single handedly, the suckers up in the crowd
to your lip you'll get whipped, while they kicking me out

Ouch 'cause that looked it hurt
And the worst part about it, is it like the dirt
Getting acquainted with your shirt become one the turf
As I watch you fall down and tell you just you worth

You no good, rotten scoundrel
I pull these hoes, like promoters out of do
I get mail, like in the color brown do
Chamillion you're the best, can't out sound you

Hugo to Pharrell, I'm the star on the track
Look at my and see how many broads they attract
And it's in the studio, they on my balls and my sack
Say it's a hit, before Chamillionaire even start on a

I pull up in slow motion, my car on a flat
Trunk up, like directions that you saw on a map
I wear the multi-colors now but part of the fact
I stay throwing up the rocks, like the Carter was back

It's the Roc, nigga it's not
But prolly a rock sized bullet, up in it's pop
Sorry mayn, I forgot, to put the heater on
But forget the underground, lock it up for my spot
I'm and I'm too hot

You hear a lot of music but it's
You hear a lot of flows but enjoy 'em
You hear a lot of and you snoring
But the is back, now they say where you been

'Cause we ain't really you out performing
You back up in the streets, you hot, boiling
click is the click they wanting
You know that OG Ron C screw it for them