| Tradin' places wanna piece of the pie
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| Good guy, bad guy, we each gotta die
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| It’s all a game, some’ll make the Hall Of Fame
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| While others’ll die in vain tryin' to front for a name
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| Dreams fulfilled, gave us more room to build
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| Strong climb made more time for wounds to heal
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| I can see the sun, must’ve been blessed to be the one
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| Set, free to run
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| Same baby moms, new seed to come
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| Breathin' lungs, through the sonogram see the thumb
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| So regardless, male or female, love either one
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| G’s and tons branched out, copped the ranch house
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| To plan, Martin needed some space to plot my plans out
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| Speak of life, still rock low, plus the sneaker type
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| Reefer kites, pushin' a stick make you breeze through lights
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| Evil sights, gun shots, used to run spots
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| Slung rocks, nearly got rich off of one block
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| Saw the light, caught a case, couldn’t afford to fight
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| Lawyer white, had to cop out or face four to life
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| Poison bites, my brain, flyin' high flames
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| Tryin' to change, trapped between worlds kinda strange
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| Yo it’s either or, used to by girl, leave her raw
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| G’s galore, Christian Dior, devils believe in war
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| Need some more currency, streets observin' me
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| Third degree, tryin' to see billions before they murder me
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| Thoroughly thoughts react, let the Porsche mack accross tracks
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| Catch me in Haiti, ridin' horse back
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| Seek religion, study life, tryin' to see the vision
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| Weeks in prison a help a wise man peep his livin'
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| Reach decisions, analyze, scope the game, wit hopes to change
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| Before the stress overdose the brain, most remain
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| Shockwaves, I rock shades through the Tropic Haze
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| Under Palm Trees, puffin' lye for days, liver ways
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| Cold chillin', old villan, known for buildin'
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| Sittin' back, controlin' millions
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| What’s right or wrong? |
| Shorter days, nights is long
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| Keep ya cipher strong, just in case, it might be on
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| So what’s the remedy, for bein' invaded by your enemy
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| Envy me, had a cold heart since infancy
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| Below freezin', used to flip for no reason
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| Now beyond that, learned to relax, mastered slow breathin' Blowin' Hundreds
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| Spendin' paper’s so redundant
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| I’m from it, most large niggas over and done wit
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| No one to run wit, just a few from the Old School
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| Ocean cruise, layin' back soakin' the blues, scopin' the views
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| Never once, open the news
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| It’s all stress, placed on the broke or confused
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| So know the game, some’ll make the Hall Of Fame
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| While others’ll die in vain tryin' to front for a name |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Trading Places/ Manasia (interlude) , by - AZ. Song from the album Pieces Of A Man, in the genre Поп