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Artist: Tru (C-Murder, Silkk, Master P) 
Album:  Tru 2 Da Game 
Song:   The Lord Is Testin' Me 
Typed by:

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 
fucked up in the head muthafucka (this nigga sick) 
You know what I'm sayin? 
One of the muthafuckas 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) 


Muthafuckas 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 fuckin' hustle on, and stack my fuckin' dividends 
Cuz if I ain't got no money and I'm broke, fuck 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 fuck 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 fuck, 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 


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 fucked 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 fuckin' 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 fuckin' family 
It's suvival of the fittest, you be my witness 
I don't give a fuck 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 fuckin' pie 
My friends trippin' cuz I got ends 
Niggas don't wanna see a black nigga rolin', in a fuckin' Benz 
My old lady say I'm stuck up 
I got to sleep with one eye open, this whole world is fucked 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 fuck, 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 fuckin' mind messin' with me