4 Stories - Obie Trice

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 tits 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

A.M., ambulance here (*siren*), can’t save 'em

You at the County Morgue by six in the a.

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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