In The Wind Lyrics - Eightball & Mjg

Verse One: MJG 

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 2X 

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 4X