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MaddProfessor"
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True Story easy guitar chords by Yfn Lucci
N/A•
Guitar
Tuning
E A D G B E
Capo
Fret 2
Capo
Transpose
0
Capo
Am
F
G
Em
C
Am
F
G
Em
C
Verse 1
Yeah,
look
Verse 2
Always
wanted
me a
Cutlass,
huh,
with the
bucket
seat
Always
grew
up
hustling,
gettin'
money,
the
hood
showed
love
to
me
All
my
young
niggas
sprayin',
so
on
my side,
this
shit
get
ugly
You ain't
stand
up for
your
mans,
so
don't
be
lyin',
talkin'
'bout you
gon' thug
for
me
Always
on
my
dick,
bruh, you
don't
love
me
Always
callin'
me
big
bruh, and
you don't
know
me
Oh,
I
can't
make
this
shit
up,
trust
me
I
can't
count
this
shit
up,
true
story
Uh,
I
used
to wan'
Verse 3
play
for the
Knicks
Started
servin'
these
J's
nicks
Off
the
porch
to the
pavement
I was
broke,
I was
takin'
risks
Man,
I
was fucked
up,
I hated
it
Uh,
it
was hard
to
get some
paper
work
So
we
was
always
takin'
shit,
uh
Back
then
Used
to go
to
Jacks
just
to get
the pack,
it
wasn't much,
but
I
had
it
Work
the block
,
no,
beat
the block
all
night,
girl,
I'm
Michael
Jackson
Uh, I
ain't got
ta sell
drugs
no
more,
baby
girl,
I'm
brackin'
I ain't got
ta sell
drugs
no
more,
baby
girl,
I'm
crackin'
Yeah,
why
play
when we
love
to
shoot?
I
hate
that you
turned
your
back
on
me, I
had
way
too much
love
for
you,
yeah
I
see
that
you
fallin'
back
from
me,
huh,
ain't no
more
askin'
me,
yeah
Ain't no
more
cappin'
me
Verse 4
(nah), can't
get no
cash
from
me
Always
wanted
me a
Cutlass,
huh,
with the
bucket
seat
Always
grew
up
hustling,
gettin'
money,
the hood
showed
love
to
me
All
my
young
niggas
sprayin',
so
on
my side,
this
shit
get
ugly
You ain't
stand
up
for your
mans,
so
don't
be
lyin',
talkin'
'bout
you gon'
thug
for
me
Always
on
my
dick,
bruh, you
don't
love
me
Always
callin'
me
big
bruh, and you
don't
know
me
Oh, I
can't
make
this
shit
up, trust
me
I
can't
count
this
shit
up,
true
story
(yeah)
Verse 5
Got
kicked
in my
ass,
my
loyalty
used
against
me,
look
at what
love
did
I was
be
trayed,
the streets
had
led
us astray
when
we
was
just
kids
I
been
to the
pen',
got
tough
skin
I
run
with the real,
so
what
then?
I
hope
he don't
fold
when he
go
up the road
Send
money
for soap,
enough,
yeah
And
I'm
on the
road
to
riches
Money
at
tractin'
these
niggas
and
scandalous
hoes,
already
knowin'
the
business
Doin'
the
best
we
can,
we
pickin'
up
cans,
one
of the
strongest
members
One
of your
partners
went
dig
in your
pockets,
you
say you
ain't
got
it, he throwin'
a
triple
All
in his
feelings,
he
making
these
songs
and
disses, still
I con
trol
the
city
Bruh, he
gon'
touch
your
soul,
get
rid
of the coldness
in
it
Learn
to con
trol
my
feelings
I let
it
go
and I
got
me a
load
delivered
Got
me
some sol
diers,
makin'
'em
do
what I showed
'em
That's
how you
'posed
to
get
it
Not
ashamed
to
say
I'm
Verse 6
afraid
to get
close
to
niggas
Always
wanted
me a
Cutlass,
huh,
with the
bucket
seat
Always
grew
up
hustling,
gettin'
money,
the
hood
showed
love
to
me
All
my
young
niggas
sprayin',
so
on
my side,
this
shit
get
ugly
You
ain't
stand
up
for your
mans,
so
don't
be
lyin',
talkin'
'bout
you gon'
thug
for
me
Always
on
my
dick,
bruh, you
don't
love
me
Always
callin'
me
big
bruh, and
you
don't
know
me
Oh,
I
can't
make
this
shit
up,
trust
me
I
can't
count
this
shit
up,
true
story
Yeah,
Verse 7
that's
that
gun
smoke
Outro 1
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