Eightball And Mjg Who Can You Trust? Lyrics

Who Can You Trust? Lyrics


Eightball:



Ain't it funny the things we do to get paid?

The
shit we do to show niggas that we ain't afraid.

Yeah, I got my education on
the streets,

Doin dirt left a nigga with some muddy feet.

Everyday life
brings everyday drama,

Smokin weed only makes a nigga mind wander.

So
much I could've done, but I didn't do.

A lot of shit a nigga never
should've went through.

Trustin another soul with my fate,

Showed me
how easily love can turn to pure hate.

The road, I know, I came to a fork
in it,

Good or bad, I'm a still be the nigga winnin, NOW

But tomorrow
ain't guaranteed.

Maybe I can see the future through my young
seeds.

Plant it, and hope the planet don't damage them.

It's a thin
line, but I'ma get mine.



CHORUS:



Who can you trust? God only
knows.

It's hard to say who you can call friend or foe.

Money, that's
all a nigga will die for.

So much pain and everybody wants
more.

(x2)



MJG:



So much pain, drownin my brain, I need a
paper towel.

Wrap it 'round, soak up the strain, I feel safer
now.

Lookin' down the road I've travelled-it's been a bumpy one.

The
walls that I stood on was Humpty Dumpty ones.

I feel like one of them
pieces up in a chess game,

On the line, defending yours from mine.

I'm
makin moves, attached to strings you can't see.

If the move seems a little
bit awkward, it ain't me.

Now fony people ride your nuts for dolla
signs,

I bet you drop some cash on the ground, they'd holla "MINE!"

You
far behind, man I'm way too ahead, I might be gone.

Think you had some
killers ridin with you, you're home alone.

I'm in the zone, meaning space
age pimpin, new millenium.

Holes down deep in the wall, I can't get into
them.

I'm friend to them, real ass niggas and family members.

What you
say, nigga I owe you something? I don't remember.



CHORUS
x2



MJG:

(talking)



The root of all evil they say, but yet,
there's so much evil in all our 

roots.  Born in a world of a nigga, some
knowing, some not knowing.  Even 

so, we've accomplished so much but still
we have so far to go.  C'mon man, 

we're born hustlers, and together we'll
be greater later.  Used to die for 

freedom... respect... Now we're dying
for dope, hoes, and paper...



Eightball:



I'm guilty of all
that shit and more.

Questioning life, asking what am I here for?

To
some, that might seem strange but you dig this,

Don't get your feelings
hurt, personal and business.

Make 'em average to acheive pimp trick
status.

Lame niggas with no nuts end up embarrassed.

Compromise and
commercialize, in the eyes of your niggas,

selling out to get the
prize.

At the same time, my baby cries,

I'm on a cell phone,

in
another state doing sound checks.

Tryin to make my little niggas' lives a
little better,

than a bulletproof sweater, nigga love
hurts.



MJG:



I've been a vet-er-an, in this game,

I ain't
trying to be better than,

only as equal, as the better man.

You can
only imagine the ghetto,

if you ain't raised in it.

That's where I'm
from,

childhood glory days in it.

I wade in it, what? The
waters.

Take me on down the stream, I'm going farther.

It's still from
coast to coast, shore to shore.

I stand accused of being a pimp, from root
to floor.

Doin' work constantly, thinkin' bout your family.

As soon as
you think it's time to chill,

God damn it be, time for another project,
another dealine.

Man, we're at the end of this rhyme, and I done said
mine.



CHORUS x2



music fades out with women
singing...



My friend, we are one, so please hold on...