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trae tha truth - karate lyrics

[intro]
you know, this just some real n-gg- sh-t, a real n-gg- story
you know what i’m saying?

[hook]
slang a bunch of narcotics
pull up in the new ‘rarri
living like john gotti
chopping bricks like karate
drink a bunch of codeine
serve it to the dope fiends
blowing money, stay clean
michael jackson, billy jean

[verse 1: trae tha truth]
pull up in a panamera lookin so clean
weaving in and out of traffic like it’s on lean
call me murda n-gg-, tryna k!ll the whole scene
getting money like i’m tryna feed the whole team
no lie, im’a do it for the whole south
somebody better tell them other n-gg-s hold off
keep f-ckin with a n-gg-, im’a go off
jump fly, im’a run up in that ho mouth
gotta h-lla short temper, n-gg- money long
leave holes in a n-gg- like a honey comb
k!ll sh-t like i do a n-gg-, n-gg-’s on
-sshole, you can see i’m in another zone
real n-gg- kick sh-t like karate
chop n-gg-s up like i’m tryna cook beef
b-tch wanna f-ck, gotta put er on a leash
before i run up in er, then i put er back up there out on the street
any time i cop a whip i’m goin floss
n-gg- this h-t the turn on lil boss
when it come to houston, texas that’s me
tell em i’m ten for ten with no loss

[verse 2: future]
got a panamera round a young n-gg- neck
got a young b-tch pulling up in a vet
smoke a lot of kush & i have a lot of s-x
had to beat the grind up, ran up my check
b-tch n-gg- get money, n-gg- get that
roll a blunt of chronic, n-gg- sell a lot of crack
you can hit a n-gg- line, order what you want
i can whoop a maserati, pulling up a donk
50,000 on yo watch, young n-gg- splurge
pop a ace of spade bottle, sip a lot of syrup
keep a young n-gg- workin’ that’ll bust a k
i’mma take a phone call, hustle everyday

[hook]
slang a bunch of narcotics
pull up in the new ‘rarri
living like john gotti
chopping bricks like karate
drink a bunch of codeine
serving to the dope fiends
blowing money, stay clean
michael jackson, billy jean

[verse 3: future]
whipping up a cake, just to go and sn-tch a spider
young n-gg- play with keys, like a type writer
al capone, john gotti was a n-gg- idol
i was never snitching, i can put it on the bible
in a 4 door beamer, driving with a rifle
n-gg- where you at, n-gg- we gon pull up on ya
young b-tch looking like janet in the 80′s
we was grinding up from a tube and a baby
got the girl dripping wet like a jerry curl
got that styrofoam cup and its full of syrup
send it over from lil mexico & let me work
i can get 36 for a clean shirt

- trae tha truth lyrics

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