Tru - The Lord Is Testin Me Lyrics

I think the lord is testin' me

Whatzup y'all, hello world, this C-Murder

I'm bout to put you in the mind of a crazy

f*cked up in the head muthaf*cka (this nigga sick)

You know what I'm sayin?

One of the muthaf*ckas you see in the

news everyday, for doin' all types of crazy shit



Chorus: Master P



Sometimes, I think the lord is testin me

But I'm a TRU nigga

I can't let none of these niggaz

and bitches get the best of me

(repeat 4X)



[C-Murder]



Muthaf*ckas just don't understand the shit that I be goin' through

I wanna kill myself, but I know, I gots to stay TRU

Be gettin' my f*ckin' hustle on, and stack my f*ckin' dividends

Cuz if I ain't got no money and I'm broke, f*ck friends

I feel like, I'm paralyzed cuz my own baby, won't hug me

My momma, won't let me in the house cuz she talkin' bout

she scared of me

The only reason I sell drugs is survive

The only reason I kill, is to stay alive

I'm constantly watchin' my back cuz playa haters act like hoes

But they don't wanna f*ck with me cuz i turn bustas into John Does

I'm not a role model so keep your kids up out my face

Talkin' bout, I'm sellin' drugs ain't doin' nothin

but killin', my own race

Police can't catch me, betta kill me, ain't gon' let 'em arrest me

They don't, understand I draw my nine faster than Jesse

I've been know to have a temper, and I click quick, like this

Befo' I was crazy, but now I'm strapped and I'm sick

187 killin' murder's a hobby

Thank God, this be the charge, six counts armed robbery

Back in the free world same shit, (ain't gon' change)

Call V, say he got weed, but f*ck, I need clothes man

Damn, shoud I get that ski mask G?

Should I rob him, try to get a job?

Damn, the man's testin' me



Chorus x2



[Silkk]



I keep visualizin' jail cells, and closed caskets

Put a credit to the grave he blastin

fill my coffin laughin', chewin tobaco

I'm just a gangsta livin' day to day, tryna survive

Try to stay high to realize why my homies out there die

Now why you keep on testin' me, sendin' these cops to arrest me

Put me in bad situations, but I won't let life, get the best of me

I was born in a f*cked situation, but I'm not a born killa

But I've seen some shit in my time, that escaped a grown nigga

Wonder if, its a test, see how much I could hold up on my shoulder

T-R-U 'cross my stomach, on my back, a f*ckin' soldier

It just don't seem right, it just don't seem right

The shit a nigga go through, makin' me wanna scream like Mike

It stresses me, its only after this

I wants to know, if its a in if I kill a nigga, over self-defense

Most of my people don't like me

And a lot of 'em can't stand me

But I wonder if its a sin if I kill and rob to feed my f*ckin' family

It's suvival of the fittest, you be my witness

I don't give a f*ck about the money

Cuz I can't take none of that shit with me

If its a test, then let me know

But if its my time to go then let me go. Amen



Chorus x2



[Master P]



My record went gold, my family started money trippin

I could look into the eyes of a nigga that wants to catch me slippin'

Somebody hollered "Don't go out like Tupac!"

That be the same nigga tryin' to fill me up, with buckshots

The game get dirty that's why I'm blastin'

Its plenty niggas out there wanna see the P, in a casket

That's why they spread rumors, lies, I died

Niggas don't wanna see another nigga get a piece, fo the f*ckin' pie

My friends trippin' cuz I got ends

Niggas don't wanna see a black nigga rolin', in a f*ckin' Benz

My old lady say I'm stuck up

I got to sleep with one eye open, this whole world is f*cked up

Got me poppin' dono

Ask Bo but he don't know what P know about the ghetto

You ain't got no dollars, you got no friends

If I go to jail how many y'all niggas gon' visit me in the pen

But if I die it be a million niggas at my funeral

They wanna see me knocked out like Tyson, did Bruno

If I wear red or a blue, then I'm a gang banga

If I make gangsta rhymes, huh, then I'm a dope slanga

Every nigga I used to know that didn't make it

think I owe 'em somethin'

Every nigga I know in the ghetto, huh

ask me to front 'em somethin'

My own company, niggas, want me to sign them up

They don't think I could work for this shit

and how hard it take to come up

They too busy, throwin' tesses (tests)

Got me strapped with pistols wearin' bullet proof vesses (vests)

Every hoe I f*ck, hope the rubber pop

The media spread rumors I smoke too much weed,

I guess they wanna see me smokin' rocks.

Heh, I think the Lord is testin' me

Either this a bad dream or my f*ckin' mind messin' with me