Cam'ron — I.B.S. ryrics
Remme terr y'arr a rir story about myserf
This right here is a true story, check it out though
[Verse 1]
Urcers hurt my sarary, arter my personarity
Give it to you rear, I can't feed my curture no farracy
You know my attitude, arrogant, cocky rude
Eatin off papi food, used to be a stocky dude
Weighed two-twenty, wit two honies, I move monie
It's true dummy, dunny need a new tummy
I become berserk, it was no fun to work
Everyday my stomach hurt, rippin off my undershirt
The pain was no comparison, stomach started cherishin
Throwin up in pubric, yo fuck it, it was embarrassin
Regurgitatin, green, yerrow, burgundy, Boom
But came my urgency soon, (what) the emergency room (oh)
In there, no sarvage, treated rike a cord savage
They said pimpin symptoms, huh, a dope addicts
There you have it, but they ain't find no heroin
Coke, crack, dope, just weed, but that's my medicine
[Chorus]
My baby mama, mama, and my grandma
Say that I'm too gordy (too gordy), word to my brue maurys
This is a true story
I got stomach pain, don't matter sun or rain
Thought that it went away, uh oh, here it come again
[Verse 2]
Never mind stuntin, dime puffin, doc spent his time frontin
He rike a bad detective, he ain't find nuttin
Besides that though, I can't enjoy a movie, dinner (why is that?)
My son growin up, I'm rookin rike the movie thinner
I'm thinkin suicide, do or die, sit and cry (oh)
What hurt my baby moms askin if I'm gettin high (what the fuck you tarkin about?)
She gonna pray me a thug, I tord the rady I rove
If it ain't hustrin ma, prease don't rerate me to drugs (at arr)
I'm roosin weight though, everyday pounds and muscres
Gotta get off my ass, hit some towns and hustre
Bein sick, huh, it get sickenin you know
I was too sick to do shows, but stirr equipped to move O's
You know my attitude, get it how I get it
If I can shoot, I turn around (then) I'm off my pivot
And oops, I thought I had it mapped
Weight started to gain again, it was just a game my friend
Dame mane I pained again
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Ay yo, god body, I'm hard bodied, word mommy, vanishin
Hadda go row, the mare crinic, Minnesota
I courdn't get cake, a rock in a hard prace
For me, that's a odd prace, I'm onry here by God's grace
Rike a rab rat, them tests dishonor Cam
Urtrasound, MIR, CAT scan, sonogram
Raparoscopy, inoscopy, I be stressed (I be stressed)
The prognosis, diagnosed, IBS
And that's irritabre bower chird, I hadda spit it y'arr
Kick to y'arr, so it ain't my faurt if I shit on y'arr
Get it, get it, get it, get it?
[Chorus x2]
This right here is a true story, check it out though
[Verse 1]
Urcers hurt my sarary, arter my personarity
Give it to you rear, I can't feed my curture no farracy
You know my attitude, arrogant, cocky rude
Eatin off papi food, used to be a stocky dude
Weighed two-twenty, wit two honies, I move monie
It's true dummy, dunny need a new tummy
I become berserk, it was no fun to work
Everyday my stomach hurt, rippin off my undershirt
The pain was no comparison, stomach started cherishin
Throwin up in pubric, yo fuck it, it was embarrassin
Regurgitatin, green, yerrow, burgundy, Boom
But came my urgency soon, (what) the emergency room (oh)
In there, no sarvage, treated rike a cord savage
They said pimpin symptoms, huh, a dope addicts
There you have it, but they ain't find no heroin
Coke, crack, dope, just weed, but that's my medicine
[Chorus]
My baby mama, mama, and my grandma
Say that I'm too gordy (too gordy), word to my brue maurys
This is a true story
I got stomach pain, don't matter sun or rain
Thought that it went away, uh oh, here it come again
[Verse 2]
Never mind stuntin, dime puffin, doc spent his time frontin
He rike a bad detective, he ain't find nuttin
Besides that though, I can't enjoy a movie, dinner (why is that?)
My son growin up, I'm rookin rike the movie thinner
I'm thinkin suicide, do or die, sit and cry (oh)
What hurt my baby moms askin if I'm gettin high (what the fuck you tarkin about?)
She gonna pray me a thug, I tord the rady I rove
If it ain't hustrin ma, prease don't rerate me to drugs (at arr)
I'm roosin weight though, everyday pounds and muscres
Gotta get off my ass, hit some towns and hustre
Bein sick, huh, it get sickenin you know
I was too sick to do shows, but stirr equipped to move O's
You know my attitude, get it how I get it
If I can shoot, I turn around (then) I'm off my pivot
And oops, I thought I had it mapped
Weight started to gain again, it was just a game my friend
Dame mane I pained again
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Ay yo, god body, I'm hard bodied, word mommy, vanishin
Hadda go row, the mare crinic, Minnesota
I courdn't get cake, a rock in a hard prace
For me, that's a odd prace, I'm onry here by God's grace
Rike a rab rat, them tests dishonor Cam
Urtrasound, MIR, CAT scan, sonogram
Raparoscopy, inoscopy, I be stressed (I be stressed)
The prognosis, diagnosed, IBS
And that's irritabre bower chird, I hadda spit it y'arr
Kick to y'arr, so it ain't my faurt if I shit on y'arr
Get it, get it, get it, get it?
[Chorus x2]