The Truth Songtext
von Nas

Can′t bury you with your money
Can't bury you with your bitch
Born alone, die alone
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, burn the whole place down

No more foul plays
Housin′ mentality, shoot 'em down days
Goin' out of town with a couple of pound plays
Always the one you call your friend but then his style changed
Hard time for non-violent crimes, that′s a outrage

We need a meetin′
Money and fame is fleetin'
You never really know the reason why two people is beefin′
Bloody murder
In the '80s he had suede Louis seats in the ′burban
Did dirty, his sentence start turnin'


Look at life, took advice from the streets of Vernon
Nothing Nice, John Boy Ice, his death undetermined
Pick an island anywhere for your happy solar returning
When I′m gone, I pray my family don't get the cash and burn it
To the floor

Black 4's laced up
Galactica glaciers, 88 karats, immaculate paystubs
Them niggas do a crime, I drop a rhyme, it′s the same rush
And they been sending shots a nigga way, but they ain′t struck

Can't fuck with me
I been outside
Since a buck 50 was the only way to get your face done
Doggystyle CD turn that "Murder Was the Case" up
Thinkin′ when I drop my first shit I'm leavin′ they face scrunched

Black from the dark side of Vernon draws from the dime block
They had it clicking but today, it's some new slimes out
Instagram trickin′ the hood, what they crying 'bout?
Petty crimes, bitches and money, that's what they lyin′ ′bout

Niggas ain't tellin′ the truth enough
No, uh-uh, no
Y'all don′t look like the truth to us
Hype off that lil' dirt you did, that ain′t shit to the kid, whoa


Niggas ain't tellin' the truth enough
No, no, nigga
Y′all don′t look like the truth to us
Hype off that lil' dirt you did, that ain′t shit to the kid, whoa

Now you got your marching orders
This shit will make your mouth water
Like food grilled with wood chips
Woolrich, button-up flannel
Lookin' wolfish my hair wolfin′
Central bookings, simple lessons

One foot on the curb, one foot in the Lexus
My style is eclectic
Eat you pussies for breakfast
Then I offer refreshments
Look all that fly shit y'all harpin′ on
They'll take a watch from your arm
And cops do nothing about it that's what′s goin′ on

Many changes, more racists
When I was tourin' the nation with warrants on probation
I was a small kid amazed with the thought one day I′d be banking
IV from drinkin'
Poppy to Abu Dhabi
Prolly polly with Saudis

Crank the engine on a ′74 Chevy Chevelle
Shawty friend is a snake
I told her her bestie ain't real
You gotta watch that
As the lobster crack, I spray the Baccarat
Your reputation, you can′t clean that shit up at no laundromat, sucka

See somebody has to say it, the boys still ain't graduated
I must say they cap the greatest (be real)
My team is mature, the bags are secured
Surrounded by addicts addicted to having more

Niggas ain't tellin′ the truth enough
No, uh-uh, no
Y′all don't look like the truth to us
Hype off that lil′ dirt you did, that ain't shit to the kid, whoa

Niggas ain′t tellin' the truth enough
No, no, nigga
Y′all don't look like the truth to us
Hype off that lil' dirt you did, that ain′t shit to the kid, whoa