Eightball:
Ain't it funny the things we do to get paid?
The sh** we do to show n***as that we ain't afraid
Yeah, I got my education on the streets
Doin dirt left a n***a with some muddy feet
Everyday life brings everyday drama
Smokin weed only makes a n***a mind wander
So much I could've done, but I didn't do
A lot of sh** a n***a 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 n***a 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 n***a 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 k**ers 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 a** n***as and family members
What you say, n***a 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 n***a, 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 sh** 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 n***as with no nuts end up embarra**ed
Compromise and commercialize, in the eyes of your n***as
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 n***as' lives a little better
Than a bulletproof sweater, n***a 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...