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free download True Crimes lyrics From
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song lyrics
True Crimes lyrics
[Intro] True...crime (Fire Squad) True...crime True...crime (here we go) True...crime
[Bishop] Good Lord they shootin at me Smile on my face cause I m trigger happy Bitch get my drink and make it snappy fore I leave your ass screamin for a taxi True Crimes and nothin but I just seen that nigga Reuben jack a ice cream truck Then quick across the street and rob a Pizza Hut American Idol ain t my title I m Elmer Fudd with a big ass rifle Lurkin the block, homicidal And robbin nuns, gimme your bible (I m kidding) Don t you know I m loco homes With a trenchcoat like Sherlock Holmes Full of shotguns and big ass chromes (why) Set to break in all your homes (why) And take that, take that, like Puffy Combs
[Chorus: Bishop] Gimme your gun, gimme your knife (why) It s True Crimes, better run for your life Hide your kids, hold your wife (why) It s True Crimes, better touch your ice Cut your purse, stash your cash (why) It s True Crimes, I m about to blast Call the cops and lock your doors (why) It s True Crimes, and I m taking yours
[Bishop] Went up to the store and I picked em Mask and gloves, guess what, it s a stick em Gimme all your money honey and a big gold band Too quick bitch witch don t say no I m so Out my mind I can t be serious Get hit so hard you ll have an out of body experience No interference with the current proceedings Or you ll be well in sand for some serious beatings Oh hi, oh my it s a tough guy Get your face messed up like I m Vanilla Sky You used to be a super-size now you re just a small fry Ain t got enough gas so I do a walk-by (blah) Hey, that s a nice Motorola With GPS, punk hand it over (hand it over) fore I attack your ass for your old Corolla (old Corolla) He ll roll your ass up like a peach folder
[Chorus]
[Bishop] Shit, ain t nothin left to spit I done kicked enough shit to get the world on my dick I m Houdini in a Beanie got that Magic Stick Stay in bikinis eeny meeny let me take my pick It s like Memph Jay and Missy yo "is that your chick" The way I m pimpin in this game it ll make you sick I m in the thing with wood grain with the top to flip While your faggot ass is riding on a bike like dick (screech) This ain t no game Hafta vision cataclysm, bringin extra ammunition You can really end up missin if you freakin with my mission Yo we meetin to more dishin your new beautician or not Drew dissin so, you listen and pay close attention OK Before I go from rap to killin milla gorilla the mack milla s spill ya Don t get me wreckin shit like Mecca God feel ya yeah
[Chorus]
True...Crime [repeat to fade] song lyrics
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