This is a hauntingly beautiful song about introspection, specifically about looking back at a relationship that started bad and ended so poorly, that the narrator wants to go back to the very beginning and tell himself to not even travel down that road. I believe that the relationship started poorly because of the lines:
"Take me back to the night we met:When the night was full of terrors: And your eyes were filled with tears: When you had not touched me yet"
So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
"I had all and then most of you"
Like many relationships that turn sour, it was not a quick decline, but a gradual one where the narrator and their partner fall out of love and gradually grow apart
"Some and now none of you"
Losing someone who was once everything in your world, who you could confide in, tell your secrets to, share all the most intimate parts of your life, to being strangers with that person is probably one of the most painful experiences a person can go through. So Painful, the narrator wants to go back in time and tell himself to not even pursue the relationship.
This was the perfect song for "13 Reasons Why"
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what these boys is talking bout, we wipe boys down
In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown
From the streets of Antoine, to the Homestead hoods
From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good
I'm riding on platinum grey, with Z-Ro and Trae
Gon let the top down, it's a beautiful day
Haters jealous on the sidelines, running they mouth
'Cause I roll with T.I.P., the king of the South
Boys know I'm Paid In Full, so they clocking my dollas
Me, Poppy, Joe and Fox all riding Impalas
I'm breaking bread with Mike Jones, and Slim Thug the Boss
It's Paul Wall, still representing Swishahouse
I'm with my boy Big Kaila, I don't bar no hater
I'm on the grind for paper, I'll holla at ya later
Forget what they talking bout, I'm in love with my wealth
I ain't gotta say I'm true, cause true speak for itself baby
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who and they say you
If she's a dime tell her I'm fine, and she'll say true-true
Turn up the bang if you into, something color changing the rims do
Sound like a train cause when I stop, they be like choo-choo-choo
And I'm thugging too homie, the heater kinda like Al Bundy's hand
Believe me every time you see me, it's gon be in her pants
If I do a crime and you snitch, homie the heater will snitch too
'Cause if the police come around, it'll be pointing at you
Somebody give mouth to mouth to this mic, after it melt
'Cause the only rapper out rapping me is me, after myself
I hope you internet thugs, that will swear that I ain't the tightest
Have cyber sex with Cita, until you catch a virus
Why is he saying this, to piss boys off
I officially claim myself, the rap King of the South
The say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who and they say you
And I say naw, give that title to the late great DJ Screw, rest in peace
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
The definition of a pimp is (me), cause I ain't doing shit for (free)
I got my own label now, if you ain't heard it's (Clover G's)
Now me and Will chasing the scrill, we pulling up on chrome wheels
Nigga, your royalty check looking like my phone bill
Quick to capping picture snapping, paparazzi follow me
Yeah I'm platinum I'll slap him, if he smoke up all my weed
I love to speed on dubs and Spre's, bitches leave the club with me
Snitches mean mugging me, don't make me bust my fucking heat
We popping trunks and smoking blunts, that sticky-ickie (ooh-wee)
Last year I did a mill, now I'm bout to do (three)
I bring the heat on every track, it's five G's for every bar
Just because I'm in a Porsche box, don't mean I like the spa
That don't mean I like the car, you know I'm down to break your jaw
Just because I burn rubber, that don't mean I like the tar
We ghetto stars in every state, like Pimp and Bun we keep it trill
And if you ain't heard, it's Lil' Flipper and Chamill'
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what these boys is talking bout, we wipe boys down
In South Park on MLK, on Sunday we clown
From the streets of Antoine, to the Homestead hoods
From Mo City to Studewood, it's all good
I'm riding on platinum grey, with Z-Ro and Trae
Gon let the top down, it's a beautiful day
Haters jealous on the sidelines, running they mouth
'Cause I roll with T.I.P., the king of the South
Boys know I'm Paid In Full, so they clocking my dollas
Me, Poppy, Joe and Fox all riding Impalas
I'm breaking bread with Mike Jones, and Slim Thug the Boss
It's Paul Wall, still representing Swishahouse
I'm with my boy Big Kaila, I don't bar no hater
I'm on the grind for paper, I'll holla at ya later
Forget what they talking bout, I'm in love with my wealth
I ain't gotta say I'm true, cause true speak for itself baby
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
They say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who and they say you
If she's a dime tell her I'm fine, and she'll say true-true
Turn up the bang if you into, something color changing the rims do
Sound like a train cause when I stop, they be like choo-choo-choo
And I'm thugging too homie, the heater kinda like Al Bundy's hand
Believe me every time you see me, it's gon be in her pants
If I do a crime and you snitch, homie the heater will snitch too
'Cause if the police come around, it'll be pointing at you
Somebody give mouth to mouth to this mic, after it melt
'Cause the only rapper out rapping me is me, after myself
I hope you internet thugs, that will swear that I ain't the tightest
Have cyber sex with Cita, until you catch a virus
Why is he saying this, to piss boys off
I officially claim myself, the rap King of the South
The say I'm the greatest of all time, and I say who and they say you
And I say naw, give that title to the late great DJ Screw, rest in peace
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
The definition of a pimp is (me), cause I ain't doing shit for (free)
I got my own label now, if you ain't heard it's (Clover G's)
Now me and Will chasing the scrill, we pulling up on chrome wheels
Nigga, your royalty check looking like my phone bill
Quick to capping picture snapping, paparazzi follow me
Yeah I'm platinum I'll slap him, if he smoke up all my weed
I love to speed on dubs and Spre's, bitches leave the club with me
Snitches mean mugging me, don't make me bust my fucking heat
We popping trunks and smoking blunts, that sticky-ickie (ooh-wee)
Last year I did a mill, now I'm bout to do (three)
I bring the heat on every track, it's five G's for every bar
Just because I'm in a Porsche box, don't mean I like the spa
That don't mean I like the car, you know I'm down to break your jaw
Just because I burn rubber, that don't mean I like the tar
We ghetto stars in every state, like Pimp and Bun we keep it trill
And if you ain't heard, it's Lil' Flipper and Chamill'
Forget what them boys is talking bout, I'm true-I'm true
You riding swangs you gripping grain, I do-I do
You candy red you candy blue, you popping trunk you jamming Screw
Don't know about you, but I'm true-I'm true
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
True Lyrics as written by Paul Birchall Mark Bell
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REFORMATION MUSIC INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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