"Trial of the Century" as written by Anthony S. Cruz and Myrick....
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 Arctic Ocean
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, fam, I got to see some paper
Keep our 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 plead innocent, the love for my freedom is infinite
Thoughts was intimate, I mastered the minds, the mortal ten 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 dough, 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 dog is innocent
It was my gats (boo I got this), this cat named Roberto, it's certain
Desert E's in my skirts end
Let my nigga live (oha), 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, fam, I got to see some paper
Keep our 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
Spread it 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 tax 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've 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, fam, I got to see some paper
Keep our 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 our 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


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Trial of the Century" as written by Nashiem Sa-allah Myrick Anthony S Cruz

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Trial of the Century song meanings
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