1nce Upon A Time Lyrics
| Song | 1nce Upon A Time |
| Artist | Tru |
| Album | Tru 2 Da Game |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : C Loc, Shocker | |
| Once apon a time in a crack house (a crack house) a nigga was chopping up a key (a key) | |
| It was drought season (season) | |
| And everybody was fiending (fiending) | |
| So they had to come and buy their dope from me | |
| It all started back in the crack house | |
| When I was counting up some dope and some mail | |
| Now beaucoup pagers for sale | |
| But I ain't have no more fucking yail | |
| I had to get me some more | |
| But all the dope is stupid move kinda slow | |
| Black Adam we gonna go bust down in | |
| Texas You know that's where | |
| I get my dope at | |
| Taz was sweating kinda harder | |
| So I took that plane ride to | |
| Georgia But just remember that | |
| I was sitting on that thang | |
| And that half that | |
| I got down in | |
| Florida I had a bird but | |
| I chopped it up and | |
| I put it down to rocks (rocks) | |
| That's when | |
| I make my come up, | |
| I hit my fucking block | |
| Fiends was constant fucking sweating, now get out da door | |
| I chop dimes to nickels, fuckers wanna see me chop some more 10's grow to 20's, 20's grow to 50's | |
| We need some yale, holla at your nigga | |
| Or just come and get me [C-Loc] | |
| Dear God can you hear me | |
| My love for money's gonna kill me | |
| Ya got me selling crack to the children | |
| And its a shame cuz | |
| I love how | |
| I'm living | |
| Peekin out the window, tryin to cope with a run of that indo | |
| Parinoid as the fuck while | |
| I'm breaking down this kilo | |
| Like some money to be made, ain't had dope in four days | |
| As the fiends knock | |
| I keep off the block till | |
| Mr. gets paid | |
| Selling phat packs, when | |
| I first react it's like dat | |
| Pay man in flat | |
| Throwing this block of dope trying to make my money back | |
| Front you something bitch, front me some dollars | |
| But if you ain't got no | |
| G's, shit nigga | |
| I can't hollar | |
| Cause way down in the | |
| Bayou swamps | |
| When niggas quick to get with some funk | |
| This hard as the fucker come up | |
| So the last thang | |
| I need is a begging motherfucker | |
| Stay strapped up, whenever if you will get tapped up | |
| The dope gang, fuck | |
| I live for it, nigga quick to kill for it | |
| Made 10 G's today, bout to get up and outie (Loc, why don't you let your bro hold ten dollars) | |
| Shit I ain't got it |
| zuo ci : C Loc, Shocker | |
| Once apon a time in a crack house a crack house a nigga was chopping up a key a key | |
| It was drought season season | |
| And everybody was fiending fiending | |
| So they had to come and buy their dope from me | |
| It all started back in the crack house | |
| When I was counting up some dope and some mail | |
| Now beaucoup pagers for sale | |
| But I ain' t have no more fucking yail | |
| I had to get me some more | |
| But all the dope is stupid move kinda slow | |
| Black Adam we gonna go bust down in | |
| Texas You know that' s where | |
| I get my dope at | |
| Taz was sweating kinda harder | |
| So I took that plane ride to | |
| Georgia But just remember that | |
| I was sitting on that thang | |
| And that half that | |
| I got down in | |
| Florida I had a bird but | |
| I chopped it up and | |
| I put it down to rocks rocks | |
| That' s when | |
| I make my come up, | |
| I hit my fucking block | |
| Fiends was constant fucking sweating, now get out da door | |
| I chop dimes to nickels, fuckers wanna see me chop some more 10' s grow to 20' s, 20' s grow to 50' s | |
| We need some yale, holla at your nigga | |
| Or just come and get me CLoc | |
| Dear God can you hear me | |
| My love for money' s gonna kill me | |
| Ya got me selling crack to the children | |
| And its a shame cuz | |
| I love how | |
| I' m living | |
| Peekin out the window, tryin to cope with a run of that indo | |
| Parinoid as the fuck while | |
| I' m breaking down this kilo | |
| Like some money to be made, ain' t had dope in four days | |
| As the fiends knock | |
| I keep off the block till | |
| Mr. gets paid | |
| Selling phat packs, when | |
| I first react it' s like dat | |
| Pay man in flat | |
| Throwing this block of dope trying to make my money back | |
| Front you something bitch, front me some dollars | |
| But if you ain' t got no | |
| G' s, shit nigga | |
| I can' t hollar | |
| Cause way down in the | |
| Bayou swamps | |
| When niggas quick to get with some funk | |
| This hard as the fucker come up | |
| So the last thang | |
| I need is a begging motherfucker | |
| Stay strapped up, whenever if you will get tapped up | |
| The dope gang, fuck | |
| I live for it, nigga quick to kill for it | |
| Made 10 G' s today, bout to get up and outie Loc, why don' t you let your bro hold ten dollars | |
| Shit I ain' t got it |
| zuò cí : C Loc, Shocker | |
| Once apon a time in a crack house a crack house a nigga was chopping up a key a key | |
| It was drought season season | |
| And everybody was fiending fiending | |
| So they had to come and buy their dope from me | |
| It all started back in the crack house | |
| When I was counting up some dope and some mail | |
| Now beaucoup pagers for sale | |
| But I ain' t have no more fucking yail | |
| I had to get me some more | |
| But all the dope is stupid move kinda slow | |
| Black Adam we gonna go bust down in | |
| Texas You know that' s where | |
| I get my dope at | |
| Taz was sweating kinda harder | |
| So I took that plane ride to | |
| Georgia But just remember that | |
| I was sitting on that thang | |
| And that half that | |
| I got down in | |
| Florida I had a bird but | |
| I chopped it up and | |
| I put it down to rocks rocks | |
| That' s when | |
| I make my come up, | |
| I hit my fucking block | |
| Fiends was constant fucking sweating, now get out da door | |
| I chop dimes to nickels, fuckers wanna see me chop some more 10' s grow to 20' s, 20' s grow to 50' s | |
| We need some yale, holla at your nigga | |
| Or just come and get me CLoc | |
| Dear God can you hear me | |
| My love for money' s gonna kill me | |
| Ya got me selling crack to the children | |
| And its a shame cuz | |
| I love how | |
| I' m living | |
| Peekin out the window, tryin to cope with a run of that indo | |
| Parinoid as the fuck while | |
| I' m breaking down this kilo | |
| Like some money to be made, ain' t had dope in four days | |
| As the fiends knock | |
| I keep off the block till | |
| Mr. gets paid | |
| Selling phat packs, when | |
| I first react it' s like dat | |
| Pay man in flat | |
| Throwing this block of dope trying to make my money back | |
| Front you something bitch, front me some dollars | |
| But if you ain' t got no | |
| G' s, shit nigga | |
| I can' t hollar | |
| Cause way down in the | |
| Bayou swamps | |
| When niggas quick to get with some funk | |
| This hard as the fucker come up | |
| So the last thang | |
| I need is a begging motherfucker | |
| Stay strapped up, whenever if you will get tapped up | |
| The dope gang, fuck | |
| I live for it, nigga quick to kill for it | |
| Made 10 G' s today, bout to get up and outie Loc, why don' t you let your bro hold ten dollars | |
| Shit I ain' t got it |
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