Luyện nghe bài hát The Truth

You a lot of music but it's boring
You hear a lot of but don't enjoy 'em
You hear a lot of albums and you
But the is back, now they say where you been

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

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

Looked like they pissed in a ice tray
Put it in the freezer so by the day
They could put it on my wrist so that I could
Yellow ice like butter but it isn't 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 every city and
Wallet the size of Guerilla Black's or Biggie's hand, baby,

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

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

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

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

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

Head rest, 7.5
You ain't to see me shine, you could carry on
Haters hate and that's the that I carry one
Make a home run and run home, Barry Bonds

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

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

You no good, dirty scoundrel
I pull hoes, like promoters out of town 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 diamonds and see how many broads they
And true in the studio, they on my balls and my sack
Say a hit, before Chamillionaire even start on a track

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 that's part of the
That I stay up the rocks, like the Carter was back

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

You a lot of music but it's boring
You hear a lot of flows but don't 'em
You hear a lot of albums and you
But the truth is back, now they say where you

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