Here comes the one they call the P.I. -- M.P. Straight out the cut no one can see I -- bust these Way out of touch with all them bustas in my rear view but see they game, so lame, I can hear through I Hens doggin at the bar, actin real nice (real nice) Six pack of Hen, straight up, with no ice -- tap me twice Did you really want my full attention? Sometimes my mind (intertwine) with the tenth dimension I see you inchin to my ride, tired, rest them legs Soon as you open up your mouth (uhh) there's the head Now who I be, MJG, certified, mic controller (Uncle Sam, I want you!) Trick bend over I'm a petrified rapper talkin, and you ain't nuttin but an electrified shyster walkin, I'm tired of savin people from takin these dead end trips, I'ma just go and bust this champagne upside your ship, alright you hip? You in a hurry? You can't relate? Don't ever say that I ain't try to set it to you straight I'm out the gate before you hate but I'll be back again You saw me faintly through the crowd but now I'm in the wind Once again
[Chorus: Eightball and MJG]
In the wind, it's a bird, it's a plane Now it be them hustlers with that skin tight game In your mix, scopin you, scopin me Eightball and MJG to the end, bustas we in the wind
[Verse Two: Eightball]
I sold my soul to this hustle, homeboy scratch what you heard T front me a keyboard, I flipped it like a bird, word on them streets be them Suave House beats In the Benz blowin Sweets got your gal between my sheets Speak -- I ain't have to say one little thang The fame of my name blew the ghetto freak brain Lookin for a meal ticket, she let me stick it Wicked when she lick it, tryin to make me trick it Girl, when I was broke it seemed all about the luxury Now I got cheese, I got a pay a girl to love with me But I'm a jelly worker, like Smuckers Workin against them suckers, big facin just to love a broad that done been around the world in a day Bear lovin whoever got cheddar to pay Ball like no trick ass, them shakers if I tip I be drunk, in the club, smokin sticky cat nip Slip, as if a banana peel was dropped in my path into a body bodyworkin not discussin no math Playa haters all around me as I stumble and grin Snatch my vest, twist somethin, hit the rumble and then...
[Chorus x2]
[Verse Three: MJG, Eightball]
I flip scripts on young dips who think they hip Smoke up your whole zip, sess hydro or crip Time and time again, stories have been told About the super hustler dyin tryin to get the gold Concrete jungle full of, carniverous firearm Hunger for flesh, and pray on who ain't strong Heavy weighters, with plenty hoes that buy em alligators In the wind, breakin all big ?
Pick artificial tricks stolen money makers Money trees come in please, help a player shake a million down to the ground, feel them hits fall Ride with me I'll run your game into a brick wall, trick y'all is what this false literary do, then reality come (and snatch the natural dust out you) who speaks the truth? Whose your leeches? Whose your friends? I plan to bring the realness back again, but until then I'm in the wind
[Chorus x4]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
