Tru - I Got Candy lyrics

rate me

This for all ya'll niggaz dat TRU to the g-zame.

From Master P and the whole TRU click. It's time to hook ya ice

cream up and turn it into candy.

Mo B. Dick: Oh!

Chorus I: I got candy!

Mo B. Dick: I can serve you on the block

Cocaine, cream, or rock, it takes over fiend

I got candy!

Mo B. Dick: I wanna know

If you feel it, too, just like I do.


I hits the block non stop, rocks in my sock

Pause for a second when I see the cops

Rocks of candy, whatever you wanna call it

But when I get you hooked, it's like a muthafuckin alcoholic

I stay ??? around like a poster, watch fiends follow like a toaster

Candy I have move em fast like ???

Knick knack paddy whack, give a fiend a fast sack

9 times outta 10, he'll tell his friends and they'll be right back

Whole bunch a niggaz, and just one fiend

They come to me for less cut, cause I boast bigger cream

And them fiends come back cause they understand me,

I open up shop, open up shop cause I got candy

Chorus II: He's got candy! Yo eyes roll in your head,

Mo B. Dick: You toss and turn in yo bed

Cause I only sell the best to you,

Mo B. Dick: Indeed I do!

Simply put I'm the reason why

Silkk: Why?

Everyday you get high,

Mo B. Dick: Real high!

And you know I got that crack for you

Mo B. Dick: Indeed I do!

Just for you


I'm sittin on the post, choppin game with this bitch,

I see ya later ho, I gots money to get

Cause as long as a fiend with dream, I got cream

Money moves everything around me, kn'what I mean?

Cause as a ??? with a dolla, I'm sittin on a drop and parlour

On some gold thangs, watch all them hoes follow

My money makes stacks and real deals

I keep my cash, nigga taj, I can't chill, I gots to pay bills

And these niggaz can't stand me

Got this ho that said she wanna suck my dick for candy

Gotta watch out for these dope fiends cause they be runnin tricks,

$3 what they gon come with, $3 what they gon get

I hold the block like a 7-11(7-11), kick yo door in like taj (taj)

Cut the shit up like machetti, chop the shit up like grass

Cause I'm a stay hustlin till they fuckin can me bitch,

Because it's Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, I got


Chorus I

[Master P]

Uuuunnnngggghhhh! I smoke weed cause I'm a drug deala

I sell candy on the block fool, to make my fuckin scrilla

7 grams for $2.50,

Got niggaz in the hood on hold, tryin to get with me

I keep a stash for the drought,

But the shit I sling daily in plastic out my mouth

My homies use code names,

Like L.D., Big Champ, Slim, T Dove, and Big Mann

I take penetentiary chances to make a livin,

Every 1st of the month, is like Thanksgiving

Fiends hug me like they miss me

Hoes see me rollin in my car, and wanna be with me

I get my candy from California by the keys

Ship it in boats and trains back to New Orleans

And open up shop like Mr. Rogers,

But sell mo hits than the Dodgers

And fiends holla "ungh!" cause it's all good

From the triple beam, straight to the neighborhood

And when you sellin candy trust nobody

Cause niggaz even snitched on John Gotti

Niggaz stay TRU to the g-zame,

Never front on muthafuckin candy in the dope game

And never go to the fedz on ya folks

Cause punks get fucked with the soap

Chorus III:

Mo B. Dick: I got that real good cocaine (cocaine) each and

every day, All real TRU soldiers, on these streets I gotta get my pay.

My game so tight, So good, so good, yeah!

Mo B. Dick: Cocaine, he-roin, that fire ass weed

Values and boulders, just tell me what you need baby. Oh!

Cotton candy, candy!

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