Trial Of The Century Lyrics

"Trial Of The Century" was written by Anthony S. Cruz / Myrick.
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"Trial Of The Century" was written by Anthony S. Cruz / Myrick.
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Just like a motion picture, gun fire froze a nigga
Compose the liquor, caused me to stager, stumble over quicker
Duckin' low, wit the four four, tryin' to bust and blow
Empty out before the po po come bust the show

Sobered up, knew it was beef, but over what?
Been in the cut, escapin' these streets, they cold as fuck
Tuck my chain in, rose to my feet, no time for aimin'
Back arched, all you saw was sparks, niggas blazin'

One fell, callin' for help, heard him yell
My last shell, tore through his spine, it's time to bail
It's slow motion, dust in my clothes started boatin'
It's bizarre copin', my blood flowin' like the art of goshen
Thoughts racin', hit the corner slow pacin'
No destination, it's up north a nigga facin'

If we all gonna die, I'm prepared to meet my maker
But before I touch that death bed feel, I gotta see some paper
Keep my head to the sky, won't let no one pull us down
Do whatever it takes, 'cause that's the breaks
Money make this world go 'round

I pleed innocent, the love for my freedom is infinite
Thoughts was intimate, I mastered the minds, the mortal 10 percent
Self defense, incarceration couldn't help repent
Caught in commotion at the time I felt it, felt intense

Him or me, it's misery through my memory
But mentally, outcome wise I feel no sympathy
You know the streets, how some niggas could go for weeks
Rock you slow to sleep, play you for doe, now you know it's beef
Know it's deep, I live my life on the creep
Tinted jeeps, bulletproof coupes move mystique

Let him speak, my dogg is innocent
It was my gats this cat named Roberto it's certain
Desert ease in my skirts end
Let my nigga live while I breed us up a kid face this little bitch

No explanation, speedy trial, fuck the extra waitin'
Hesitatin', they know the time a nigga facin', so what's the verdict?

If we all gonna die, I'm prepared to meet my maker
But before I touch that death bed feel, I gotta see some paper
Keep my head to the sky, won't let no one pull us down
Do whatever it takes, 'cause that's the breaks
Money make this world go 'round

I feel ill inside, though my life is still a ride
Some may criticize, but it's a blessin', that I'm still alive
From all the smoke lit, all the hoes hit, all the cold shit
From comin' that close gettin' my dome split

Spreaded out, so much on my mind, gotta let it out
To live, and die for a cause I feel dead with out
Check my rap sheet, no prior cases, just some tech's beef
Charged with drunk drivin' once, but I was half sleep

Swervin', off of St. Mark's and Burgan, in a rented suburban
I must have dozed when I was turnin'
But peep this, I'm on trial now, no sign of weakness
No secrets, just goin' to court and I'm tryin' to beat this
A new don, another score, another new born, been too long
Here's a dick jury for y'all to chew on

Order in the court, order in the court
That's contempt of court

If we all gonna die, I'm prepared to meet my maker
But before I touch that death bed feel, I gotta see some paper
Keep my head to the sky, won't let no one pull us down
Do whatever it takes, 'cause that's the breaks
Money make this world go 'round

If we all gonna die, I'm prepared to meet my maker
But before I touch that death bed feel, I gotta see some paper
Keep my head to the sky, won't let no one pull us down
Do whatever it takes, 'cause that's the breaks
Money make this world go 'round

If we all gonna die

Songwriters
ANTHONY S. CRUZ / Myrick

Published by
Lyrics © Royalty Network, EMI Music Publishing

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