Obie Trice - 4 Stories lyrics

Niggas claim to be hard
But deep down inside
You know you the pussiest nigga
Out of your squad
Type to get stuck up, start prayin to God
Like if I don't get popped
I'm in a Mas' with a law
No more street dreams
Your brain like to focus
On them street things
As if street niggas wouldn't
Strip your street dreams

"Know what I mean?"

Niggas claim to be tough, shit
That's a bluff niggas know if they solo in
The club wouldn't budge
Since you with your man all of
A sudden you a thug
That comes with mean mugs
And flesh gettin plugged, nigga
Everybody "2Pacalypse Now"
But everybody hate the thought six feet down
And everybody tough, dog you ain't tough
You's a drunk with one gat and
A crew full of chumps
Frontin hardcode when your body left in lumps
Lucky the hospital in that nigga's trunk
That's what you want?

Niggas still kills me
Portrayin, Tony Montana, man
It was just a movie niggas don't move me
Y'all niggas' faker than a bitch with
Implants in her tit's and booty
How the fuck you gon' shoot me
When you got the clip backwards in the Uzi?
Niggas feel they real thugs
Then feel them real slugs
And feel that the streets
Really wasn't for us
Y'all cats is really hilarious
But ain't shit funny when your dick's in
The dust and the ambulance come


The bullet strikes your dome
For thirty seconds, your twitchin
Your body in a zone
After that you're gone, everybody lookin
Niggas and bitches, everybody shook and
Homicide late, chalk in the pavement
Around your physique
In the streets you're layin
Your baby mama screamin, bitch went hoarse
Cause your life was divorced
At one forty-four
AM, ambulance here (siren) , can't save 'em
You at the County Morgue by six in the am
Your mother get the phone call, drop the horn
She boohooin cause her Boo Boo is now gone
Tryin to be strong she at the County Morgue
In the conference room
With the TV screen on screamin "my baby!"
All cause your stupid ass wanna be crazy