* this song is in game and commercial but NOT on the soundtrack
[Intro]
True...crime (Fire Squad)
True...crime
True...crime (here we go)
True...crime
[Bishop]
Good Lord they shootin` at me
Smile on my face `cause I`m trigger happy
Bitch get my drink and make it snappy
`fore I leave your ass screamin` for a taxi
True Crimes and nothin` but
I just seen that nigga Reuben jack a ice cream truck
Then quick across the street and rob a Pizza Hut
American Idol ain`t my title
I`m Elmer Fudd with a big ass rifle
Lurkin` the block, homicidal
And robbin` nuns, gimme your bible (I`m kidding)
Don`t you know I`m loco homes
With a trenchcoat like Sherlock Holmes
Full of shotguns and big ass chromes (why)
Set to break in all your homes (why)
And take that, take that, like Puffy Combs
[Chorus: Bishop]
Gimme your gun, gimme your knife (why)
It`s True Crimes, better run for your life
Hide your kids, hold your wife (why)
It`s True Crimes, better touch your ice
Cut your purse, stash your cash (why)
It`s True Crimes, I`m about to blast
Call the cops and lock your doors (why)
It`s True Crimes, and I`m taking yours
[Bishop]
Went up to the store and I picked `em
Mask and gloves, guess what, it`s a stick `em
Gimme all your money honey and a big gold band
Too quick bitch witch don`t say no I`m so
Out my mind I can`t be serious
Get hit so hard you`ll have an out of body experience
No interference with the current proceedings
Or you`ll be well in sand for some serious beatings
Oh hi, oh my it`s a tough guy
Get your face messed up like I`m Vanilla Sky
You used to be a super-size now you`re just a small fry
Ain`t got enough gas so I do a walk-by (blah)
Hey, that`s a nice Motorola
With GPS, punk hand it over (hand it over)
`fore I attack your ass for your old Corolla (old Corolla)
He`ll roll your ass up like a peach folder
[Chorus]
[Bishop]
Shit, ain`t nothin` left to spit
I done kicked enough shit to get the world on my dick
I`m Houdini in a Beanie got that Magic Stick
Stay in bikinis eeny meeny let me take my pick
It`s like Memph Jay and Missy yo is that your chick
The way I`m pimpin` in this game it`ll make you sick
I`m in the thing with wood grain with the top to flip
While your faggot ass is riding on a bike like dick (screech)
This ain`t no game
Hafta vision cataclysm, bringin` extra ammunition
You can really end up missin` if you freakin` with my mission
Yo we meetin` to more dishin your new beautician or not
Drew dissin so, you listen and pay close attention OK
Before I go from rap to killin` milla gorilla the mack milla`s spill ya
Don`t get me wreckin` shit like Mecca God feel ya yeah
[Chorus]
True...Crime (repeat to fade)
