Wizzo - Crenshaw and Slauson (True Story) lyrics

[Verse 1: Nipsey Hu$$le] Look Relate to ya I can't if you's a fake n***a Where level 4 in the state is what your mistakes get ya Rap n***as they just wanna double date with you Twitpic and show these hoes that they affiliate with you Labels used to treatin rappers like a slave, n***a Starvin artist "just be happy with your fame n***a" sh** changed, now it's such a different game All the n***as like myself is controlling everything If you, pay attention see exactly what I mean Fucc the middleman, I said that in 2003 Was 18, White Lincoln, chrome feet Black .40 was my pillow, everynight I go to sleep Grown n***as treat me like they OG Holdin on to every word that the tiny loc speaks I had a vision nobody else could see Sold my sh** to D-Mac, a little less than 10 Gs Brought my grocery bag of cash back to Blacc Sam He matched a n***a, next day we went to Sam Ash We bought a pro tools and a microphone Studio was far from plush but the lights was on Couple hunned thousand stashed at my momma's home Real estate in Atlanta but ain't nobody know Mac 11s in the safe, hidden in the floor My bro did it like nobody that I've ever known Screens on every wall with 16 camera angles Double pane bullet proof gla** pushin past the haters Cuban links and rolexes 'fo the check from Epic This industry ain't got like us but they gone respect it Built the label up from money we was savin up No details til the Statue of Limitations up Couple n***as got flipped tryna play with us The demonstrations speak loud so I ain't sayin much Was a charismatic n***a, I don't play as much Cos life is real when you live it in a place like us School pictures crackin smiles, now my face is stuck Shellshocked to see how much they really hated us Couldn't keep a kind heart, get yo hatred up Streets smarts, n***a get yo information up Watching Belly, smokin blunts, take Jamaican puffs One day I'mma have a house and car like Jamaican cuz Credits roll, back to stress pounds breakin up Had to fight before we hustled and it made us tough Early 90s neighbors rooster used to wake us up Mama had a bucket and a shack but we ain't make a fuss Blue Cutla**, no license, .380 tucked 96 Caprice 'Bolt Da Fatts' was savin up They gettin packed out if n***as try fade with us Crenshaw and Slauson, True Story, Zo play the drums [Song 2] I got to this paper, no industry favors Speaking to they soul, so they tell me I'm they favorite Been through it myself, yeah, I know how it make you Never let 'em judge you cuz they ain't you I could tell a long story or just say I'm grateful I could tell a gang of reasons or just say I'm faithful I can sell a million records or just mixtape it They don't really give a f** long as I just keep pacing Quiet for a year, gave no explanation Now I'm 'bout to drop I got em on that Proud 2 Pay sh** Half of a million cash, he gon offer me a label Told him that I need to own it, so I'm cool, kept it gangster Hollaback, real n***as what you calling that You see the game f**ed up, look, what part is that They compare where I'm at to where I started at They put me in the Getty, I'm a artifact They can't never hang me on the wall though We presidents n***a we push bu*tons The rest of y'all just react, Victory Lap n***a this Marathon Still don't stop though Count me up, count me up I'm in this sh** you n***as is out as f** I'm use to people doubting I'd amount to much I thrive off the challenge, I'm a childish f** I love toys so I'm by the buck I hate to lose so I play too rough I speak my mind and say I say too much Minus the hip hop, cops say I don't say enough I know they listening to my raps While I'm out running these laps Tryna make my paper stack Its like this and like that I think I'm KRS I think I'm Dead Prez I think I'm 2Pac n***a I need some f**in meds I think I'm Eminem, I'm going crazy Shoot in front of the shop Nas & AZ I never planned to make it to a old n***a Plant the bag 560 off a zone n***a Dip my Giovanni feet in chrome n***a Drop them b**hes on Pirellis hit the road with em I should get the cover of the Rolling Stone n***a I should perform at the Old Republic or Rome n***a I'm not a rapper or a poet, I'm a poem n***a Ain't it amazing how I'm standing on my own n***a Always pull up in foreign thats never loaned n***a Always speaking my music straight from my soul n***a My business partners Jewish but I'm all n***a Still ghetto that ain't wrong is it? Way I see it long as I ball n***a I'm a California die n***a Hundred thousand on my car n***a You know very well who you are n***a [Song 3] I been that n***a before the fame happened That tell them hoes go get my name tatted I rock a Roley cuz my game cla**ic And repped LA before it came back in I know y'all see me in my lane smashing I know y'all hate me with a strange pa**ion I made examples out y'all lame a**es I love my life y'all could hate that sh** All the smart money got they bets on me And all them real n***as wish the best for me All these bad b**hes got some s** for me Shout out them bad b**hes, getting dressed for me They down to stand in line cuz its well worth it Pull up to my shows in Chanel purses They jeans fit the worst but they smell perfect Never argue with they n***as but they yell verses Aye, I'm true to this game Gimme that p**y 'for she tell me her name Aye, I'm true to this game All Money In No Money Out on my chain Aye, I'm true to this game No guarantees you gotta live for today Aye, I'm true to this game Do it big til they remember your name We still them same n***as that we used to be Black Sam in that sedan in the coupe is me Hundred thousand for the car so the roof was free While I'm in it flashback on how it used to be Wildin' n***a can't relax it was the youth of me That make a smoker buy the bullets for a shooting spree Found myself, same time family losing me But all that violence from the past is what produced a G All the real LA n***as know the truth is me No hotline homie I could tell your future free Get on your Marathon til you bruise ya feet Or run the streets til the reverend write ya eulogy Fishbone in the six with all my j**elry Cuz I heard my haters is supposed to be shooting me I'll never let a broke b**h influence me Slauson Ave getting money and the proof is me