Correction Lyrics Tell U a True Story by Cam’ron

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Lyrics

First of all, platinum, five months, holla. You know I go away for two months, and the riff raff come back with this bullsh*t, man. This what y’all come back with after 6 months, this filth? What the peanut b***er and jelly bullsh*t going on, huh brazzi? Ya n***as ain’t even worth my f**king rhymes, man. Yeah, I tried to be modest on y’all b*t*h a** n***as, but I guess I am the f**king best, man. These old n***as coming out with this bullsh*t, man. You ain’t even got no “Ether” for me, man? Huh? This n***a older than me and still a little n***a, man. But what I’ma do is I’ma tell you a true story. This right here is true still, this is real life right here. This little faggot n***a Naynay, he’s a little dirt boy. You know the n***a on your block that you, that p*ssed on himsеlf, you might’ve called him Shorty Sh*t Stain? You know the Shorty Sh*t Stain on your block? That’s him
But anyway man, bеsides that, we see this faggot n***a downtown at the W Hotel. He from the Bronx. Queens, don’t let him fool y’all. He’s a faggot from the Bronx. He comes over there to try to get a new ident**y with y’all. He’s a homo. Please don’t be fooled. But anyway, we see the faggot n***a down at the W. My man Five Finger knows that n***a
He tells him, “Ayo, where the f**k you’re going? Come here. You better fall back on this whole situation.”
He says, “No, I ain’t got nothing to do with it. I’m just trying to rhyme. I’m just trying to get on. I ain’t on it like that.”
“You sure?”
“I’m-I’m sure.”
“Okay, you could leave now.”
We let him leave

I see the same b*t*h a** n***a at the MTV Awards with the kid, um, Wiz, from “Oochie Wally” and, um, my man, E. E’s a young n***a. He’s coming up. He’s a real n***a. I’ll tell you about E in a minute. But they want to get my number, you know, to squash the whole sh*t, and because of E, I gave them my number. I gave them my number only because of E. That was my little man. I used to give E pies; he used to flip them sh*ts like he had spatulas, right in the Bridge, but that’s another story
So these dudes, I get a phone call about three days later. Some dude is on the phone, “Yo I’m So-and-so, I claim this and claim that. Yo, yo, what set you claim?”
I’m like, “Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah. What are you talking about, man?”
“Nah, I’m So-and-so, I’m only squashing it for Nas and them on the strength ‘cause you claim this and mans is doing that and they claim this, that and the third.”
But while he’s talking, I hear an operator come on about two minutes later saying, “This phone call is from a federal prison in New York State.”
I said, “What kind of peanut b***er and jelly sh*t is this?” You feel me, brazzi?
I hung the phone up on that b*t*h a** n***a. I mean what kind of um, ah, aye, it ain’t even, that’s self-explanatory. I’m not even gonna get into that

But worse than that, the kid E, back to my man E. E is with Queensbridge. He’s from the Bridge. He’s with Nas and them. That’s just my man. We have some other business we do. I see him with Nas at the MTV awards. He calls me about two weeks later, “Yo Cam, I got to go in. I got to get ready to do a bid. I need 500 dollars.”
I’m thinking to myself, “Wasn’t you just with Nas and you’re calling me for 5?” I’m like it’s all good ‘cause that’s my man from back in the days. You need 5 cash, you got it. Boom. Come meet me. You need five, you got five. But this dude is from the Bridge, Vernon side. I mean he’s with Nas and them. If you don’t get the gist of what I’m trying to tell you, that’s like my man, Jim Jones, Santana and one of them, going to Nas asking for 500 dollars. Your crew ain’t [?] for you, huh? My n***as? We got 2002, 2003, we ordered the 2004 to be here this January, out, guaranteed

But I mean, this n***a never been a leader anyway, man. He abandoned the firm. He yelling out Bravehearts but running behind Murder Inc. Yo, shout out to Gotti and Ja. Y’all some smart a** n***as, man. I’m proud of y’all n***as, man. Y’all gon’ have Nas rapping another ten years for y’all n***as. You gon’ be working for Ja. He gonna retire in two years, man. You gon’ be 48 rapping, you dumba**. Hmph. But what the f**k I really expect man? This n***a can’t even control his baby mother. This b*t*h holding press conferences, going to the newspaper. I mean like goddamn. She got more press out this sh*t than everybody. Me, I would’ve grabbed my baby mother by the neck, told her sit her a** down, read a book, and be glad that you f**king know me

Oh yeah, and y’all n***as lying to these people talking ‘bout n***as got my jewelry, man; I got robbed. Please. Check me. All the jewels is here, man. They ain’t going nowhere. Holla at your boy, man. Stop lying to these f**king people, man. Stop. I’m the truth, man, but what I am going to do, I’ma double up. I’m putting eight rings on one hand. I’ma wear 42 chains. I’ma get another hole in each ear and I’ma start rocking four earrings at a time, and I’m coming out dolo, [?], Holla at your boy, man

Yeah
Y’all
Ayo, Santana, holla at these n***as, man

This n***a got to be stupid
Nashawn, running his mouth, man, why did he do this?
He don’t understand it’s not just the music
It’s war, violence included, and I will abuse it (Yup)
Shoot and pop at your movement
Don’t get mad ‘cause we’re the champions and y’all are the losers
Y’all are the duckers, my squad is the shooters
Y’all are the pumpers, my squad is the movers
Y’all ain’t f**king with us
Keep laying them dry threats
I’ll make it hard for you to digest the food that you process
Now you’re really f**king with God’s best
I will point, I will aim and fly planes in your projects
You ain’t nothing but a sidekick
Rolling, strolling, and holding on Nas d**k
I’m a star standing next to a star
See me, you see Cam, you see a car next to a car
I see you, I see your man in a next n***a car
It’s obvious Nas got no respect for his squad
You got sent on a doja mission
You’s a b*t*h with ho intentions, you need to get f**ked
That’s why I sent some homos to come get you
Lolo, Bobo, and Mr. Pump Pistols
You faggots is done dizzle for rizzle
You’re f**king with boys that grip and pump pistols
Talk about chains being snatched
Cormega snatched yours and gave it back, pause
Rewind, your peoples can’t ignore me
No Ether can’t destroy me, I’m here for real, f**ker
Yeah
F**kers
I heard you, Santana. Yes sir. This is none other Jim Jones, n***a. Capo Status Dipset, n***a, You f**king little faggot

Nashawn, you little punk, man, I’m way out your league, and you know this, man. I would’ve sent my YG’s to come get you. I’ll let Lil Neenee f**k you up, You little faggot, man. I got a couple things to say to you, man. My man, [?], [?], [?] and them playing f**king Roulette with your f**king punk a**. You f**king, [?] you’re crying, man. Listen, you know what else, man. How you gonna go home, man? You’re not allowed in the BX man. No. You’re not allowed in ghost town no more. You heard me. Please, we gon’ ride on that, man

As for Nas, man, I guess you ain’t Muslim no more, man, so you know what that means. I’m going to smack that f**king kufi off your f**king head, man, ‘cause I had a little issue with my akis, man. They was telling me, “be cool with the, with the little f**king kufi sh*t.”, but nope. Here it goes, kufi straight off your f**king punk a** head. I called you a hermaphrodite before, but you’re really a transvest**e, you little homo, man. And I’ma stop wasting my breath on you, man. You’re speaking to a CEO, n***a. Capo Status, I’m the boss, man. You’re not even a don, man. You’re not even a capo, man. You’re on a [?], man. I don’t know the clergy system, but I know you’re the f**king little doja in the regime, you little faggot, man

Diplomat Records, man. That’s what’s up, you hear me? And I ain’t famous, man. All the famous people know me, and I’m real [?], so please do the history on that. Holla

Sh*t, man. I guess these n***as don’t get it at all, man. I don’t know what the f**k…

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