Tru - The Lord Is Testin Me lyrics

(feat. C-Murder, Silkk, Master P) I think the lord is testin' me Whatzup y'all, hello world, this C-Murder I'm bout to put you in the mind of a crazy f**ed up in the head muthaf**a (this n***a sick) You know what I'm sayin? One of the muthaf**as you see in the News everyday, for doin' all types of crazy sh** [Chorus: Master P] Sometimes, I think the lord is testin me But I'm a TRU n***a I can't let none of these n***az And b**hes get the best of me [x4] [C-Murder] Muthaf**as just don't understand the sh** that I be goin' through I wanna k** myself, but I know, I gots to stay TRU Be gettin' my f**in' hustle on, and stack my f**in' dividends Cuz if I ain't got no money and I'm broke, f** friends I feel like, I'm paralyzed cuz my own baby, won't hug me My momma, won't let me in the house cuz she talkin' bout She scared of me The only reason I sell d** is survive The only reason I k**, is to stay alive I'm constantly watchin' my back cuz playa haters act like hoes But they don't wanna f** with me cuz i turn bustas into John Does I'm not a role model so keep your kids up out my face Talkin' bout, I'm sellin' d** ain't doin' nothin But k**in', my own race Police can't catch me, betta k** me, ain't gon' let 'em arrest me They don't, understand I draw my nine faster than Jesse I've been know to have a temper, and I click quick, like this Befo' I was crazy, but now I'm strapped and I'm sick 187 k**in' murder's a hobby Thank God, this be the charge, six counts armed robbery Back in the free world same sh**, (ain't gon' change) Call V, say he got weed, but f**, I need clothes man Damn, shoud I get that ski mask G? Should I rob him, try to get a job? Damn, the man's testin' me [Chorus x2] [Silkk] I keep visualizin' jail cells, and closed caskets Put a credit to the grave he blastin Fill my coffin laughin', chewin tobaco I'm just a gangsta livin' day to day, tryna survive Try to stay high to realize why my homies out there die Now why you keep on testin' me, sendin' these cops to arrest me Put me in bad situations, but I won't let life, get the best of me I was born in a f**ed situation, but I'm not a born k**a But I've seen some sh** in my time, that escaped a grown n***a Wonder if, its a test, see how much I could hold up on my shoulder T-R-U 'cross my stomach, on my back, a f**in' soldier It just don't seem right, it just don't seem right The sh** a n***a go through, makin' me wanna scream like Mike It stresses me, its only after this I wants to know, if its a in if I k** a n***a, over self-defense Most of my people don't like me And a lot of 'em can't stand me But I wonder if its a sin if I k** and rob to feed my f**in' family It's suvival of the fittest, you be my witness I don't give a f** about the money Cuz I can't take none of that sh** with me If its a test, then let me know But if its my time to go then let me go. Amen [Chorus x2] [Master P] My record went gold, my family started money trippin I could look into the eyes of a n***a that wants to catch me slippin' Somebody hollered "Don't go out like Tupac!" That be the same n***a tryin' to fill me up, with buckshots The game get dirty that's why I'm blastin' Its plenty n***as out there wanna see the P, in a casket That's why they spread rumors, lies, I died n***as don't wanna see another n***a get a piece, fo the f**in' pie My friends trippin' cuz I got ends n***as don't wanna see a black n***a rolin', in a f**in' Benz My old lady say I'm stuck up I got to sleep with one eye open, this whole world is f**ed up Got me poppin' dono Ask Bo but he don't know what P know about the ghetto You ain't got no dollars, you got no friends If I go to jail how many y'all n***as gon' visit me in the pen But if I die it be a million n***as at my funeral They wanna see me knocked out like Tyson, did Bruno If I wear red or a blue, then I'm a gang banga If I make gangsta rhymes, huh, then I'm a dope slanga Every n***a I used to know that didn't make it Think I owe 'em somethin' Every n***a I know in the ghetto, huh Ask me to front 'em somethin' My own company, n***as, want me to sign them up They don't think I could work for this sh** And how hard it take to come up They too busy, throwin' tesses (tests) Got me strapped with pistols wearin' bullet proof vesses (vests) Every hoe I f**, hope the rubber pop The media spread rumors I smoke too much weed, I guess they wanna see me smokin' rocks. Heh, I think the Lord is testin' me Either this a bad dream or my f**in' mind messin' with me