T-Pain - Tha Truth lyrics

rate me

Damn...

I don't do this for fun man

It's my job, dawg

All you see is the videos and the rings and the watch

And the bracelet, and chains

And you know, grills and more chains

Another chain on top of that

And another ring on another finger, and another grill

And then I switch grills and then I change chains

And that's all you see, but you know...

'Ey

I wake up early in the morning

Hit the snooze button for hours

Get up, hop into a two hundred thousand dollar shower

Brush my teeth when I'm out it

Remote start the Audi

Kiss my boy, kiss my girl, kiss my wife, and then I'm outtie

Damn

Grind time from a struggle to a hussle

"Aw man"s to "God damn"s

From a clam to a mussel

I ain't say you had it better

But damn, did I tussle

I ain't have much

But if you tried to take it, I'll bust ya

It feels like I done died

'Cause every time I drive my past life flash

Right in front of my eyes

'Cause I'm not one of them guys

That don't remember shit,

Can't even go home and drive alone in this whip

'Cause everybody want him gone

But you got me fucked up

If a nigga gon' be on YouTube saying'

I ain't from my bowin' homes

So I'm gonna keep goin' strong

And let you niggas go out of season

As long as my kids is breathin'

I'm doing this for a lot of reason

I do it for my kids and they kids' kids

And when I'm dead they come to my grave

To tell me what they kids did, yeah

I'm a tell 'em my style and how long I has hated on about it

And how it took twenty minutes to make a song about it

Even though I was young I was actin' grown about it

Took some years, but eventually they left me 'lone about it

Old folks cheering' me on 'cause they know I got it

They see niggas get in the game and fold like origami

But the only foldin' I'm doin' is when I'm at shows poppin'

Got 'em fainting' like Michael Jackson, straight hos droppin'

Then I go home, safely homie, there's no robbin'

Gated community

You gotta know the code, partna

Walk up to the crib

Lamborghini look so proper

And six old-schools sittin' on 24" choppas

White folks in my neighborhood think I'm the Dalai Lama

'Specially when I come outside like roo sticky dima

But everything good gotta turn bad

It's like the weekly drama,

You know, lil' small shit,

Like girls saying' they my baby mama

But this music has made me calmer

I now understand karma

These niggas is mad,

They wanna assassinate me

Like Barack Obama

But I graduated, School of Hard Knocks, summa cum laude

On the side of the stage

Like I am really 'bout to fuck this crowd up

That makes me prouder, makes me a man

If you ain't doin' what I'm' doin'

You automatically a fan

Damn, get on your knees please

And praise God that he sent you somebody

That can just tell you niggas these things

Radio Killa, R&B King, T.P.

The Music Jesus

A.K.A. the Lord of the Three Rings