Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Who Can I Trust, artist - Spice 1. Album song Hits Vol. 3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.04.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Thug World
Song language: English
Who Can I Trust |
Who can ya trust, cause niggas is all snakes and rats |
Hollerin at your baby mama all behind your back |
Smilin in your face though they plan on takin your place |
Paid the lawyer ten g’s, still lost the case |
You say you got a lust to bust |
But when it comes down to it, man, you sho' go nuts |
Who can ya trust? |
Some niggas wanna roll with us |
But when the bodies start droppin, man, they ain’t sayin too much |
Out of touch, quiet as a church mouse, not a squeak or a sound |
When we really let em know how we get down |
Who can ya trust, scandalous bust’s tryin to set you up |
And though you didn’t plan on swimmin they wet you up |
Who can ya trust when a nigga ballin out of control |
And all the haters wanna get you for your diamond Rol' |
Tired of suckers tellin me that I don’t kick it no mo' |
I’mma kick that ass ridin for my cash for sho' |
Who can ya trust? |
When a nigga ballin out of control |
You see it’s hard to tell the difference from a friend or foe |
(Who can be trusted?) |
Lord, I wanna be a baller, please |
But these savage-ass streets keep on callin me |
(Who can be trusted?) |
When a nigga ballin out of control |
You see it’s hard to tell the difference from a friend or foe |
(Who can be trusted?) |
Lord, I wanna be a baller, please |
But I been diagnosed with the thug disease |
…gettin sticky when I roll up |
Niggas dippin too close and you don’t know me, nigga, hold up |
Get your hands our your pockets, I don’t trust nobody |
Cause see, the game ain’t nothin but a gangster party |
I been thuggin for years, tryin hard to stay alive |
Cause violence and vengeance came close too many times |
Sparks light up the night, niggas duckin from ricochets |
Baldheads or braids, you can die in six million ways |
In the heat of the drama, who can ya trust? |
Hella niggas sayin they down, but they ain’t ready to bust |
They ain’t walkin how they talkin, they just yappin they mouth |
Speakin on that thug shit and ain’t a strap in the house |
Who can you trust, everybody gotta watch they back |
Thought he was your homeboy till he faded to black |
Walked up to your mama house, hit you up for the sacks |
Now you bailin in the hooptie rollin round with the gat |
You can’t trust nobody in these days and times |
Miss my homie, sittin on his grave with nines |
Wishin I was at the murder scene lightin it up |
For my playboy partna, I was the one he could trust |
We choose 100's and 50's over tig-old bitties |
It’s m.o.b., ride or die in the heart of the city |
Hella busters be fallin victim, swallowed up in the game |
Black demons, I hear em callin, still screamin my name |
Fall in the game, but you can never know all the games |
Shot in his head with his vest on — who do you blame? |
A victim of circumstances, gone with the wind |
And to my niggas stuck on death row, caught in the pen |
Never let em see you sweat, we’re all born in sin |
Suckers’ll never really see through the hearts of the real men |
When the shit goes down niggas be up in the clouds |
Suckers ain’t sayin nothin, they just talkin aloud |
Entertainin the crowd tryin to get a few stripes |
I ain’t down for ballin, already got two strikes |
Niggas tryin to make me k out |
And some people say, «My A.K. |
is the way out» |
Stay out of bullshit and keep my head over the water |
Lot of niggas, see em hungry, blood-thirsty for dollars |
Ridin for the cream, niggas think I’m doin 3 months |
But on the real, homie, you can be touched |
Now who can ya trust? |