Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Trust It's On, artist - Shyheim. Album song Manchild, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.06.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Wu-Tang
Song language: English
Trust It's On |
Microphone check 27 |
(Wu-Tang Killa Beez) |
Microphone check |
Sealed indictments, made my click vanish |
Got me corresponding with my niggas in Clinton Annex |
I run when the Jiggy come, I’m on probation |
Can’t get caught with another gun, serious business |
That’s why I never be in one spot for more than 5 minutes! |
A menace like O-Dog, Oh Lord! |
You will be a body and your man will be a witness |
Do it for dolo, Shy needs no assistance! |
If I’m with my niggas, then we co-defendants |
One love, one thug 'till the last slug |
Made up mad slang when my phone was bugged |
You bite so much, your mind on high speed dub |
Copy my shit, I’ll fuck you up in the club |
You can get your doors, Glocks and 44s |
What you think they stop making guns when they made yours? |
27, we get money and break laws, gettin' you sick |
We be all up in your pores |
Yo, this shit blow |
Let your guns bust, It’s on! |
When you see my fam commin' with the rush, It’s on! |
When we crush, It’s On! |
When we flush, It’s on! |
And when my fam get the urge to hit that dust |
It’s on! |
Yo, this shit blow |
When you trust, it’s on! |
I’m like Ice Cube, to my shows I bring a Mack 10 |
With the Teflon vest on, more points than an octagon |
You can trust it’s on, that’s my word is bond |
I put that on Twin, niggas is broke |
They don’t bail out, they blood in |
Then they blood out when I bring the thug out |
Make them cough up a lung out on the concrete |
I Roc-A-Fella like Bleek, niggas know me |
I think your CD is weak, if the shit ain’t in my Jeep |
Straight cheese, skinny nigga but I walk like I’m Cock-Diese |
Death to my enemy’s… |
When I be yellin' «blaze 'em»! |
And if you got the razor, shave 'em! |
And if you got the 44 to lift 'em up |
Raise 'em, just don’t come |
Runnin' back to me, sayin' I grazed 'em |
You grazed 'em, What?!? |
Son, you better murder the man |
We leave his body in the soil, so we fertiliin' |
And if you heard of the plan, then you know how we rock |
You don’t never graze a nigga, make his heartbeat stop |
And it’s hardly not likely of us |
To leave a nigga leakin' and slightly touched |
That thing might need to bust cause precisely he bust |
And he could turn a hard rock, Icee to slush |
And it might be the trust, that I gave 'em before |
If Kani get upset, son it’s blazin' galore! |
Shy say, fuck the roof! |
Son, I’m raising the floor! |
And my? |
don’t shit, that’s why you praising the lord |
(Praising the lord) What?! |
(Nigga) (Straight Up) |