Trust Me
P.R. Terrorist Lyrics
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[Intro: P.R. Terrorist (9th Prince)]
Yeah, yeah, got me son? (yeah no doubt)
You gonna hold me down on this one, kid (yea, no question)
That's what I'm talkin' about
You don't be believin' the shit I be sayin' sometimes (nigga, go ahead wit
That shit)
For real, you supposed to be my nigga, son, for real (I got you, son)
Yo, yo (I got you), yo
[Chorus: P.R. Terrorist]
You can trust me on this, son, and trust me on that
You can trust me on this, son, and trust me on that
You can trust me on this, son, and trust me on that
Smack your ass wit the face of the gun, her ass crack
Smack your ass wit the face of the gun, her ass crack
[Chorus: 9th Prince]
You can trust me on this, God, or trust me on that
You can trust me on this, black, or trust me on that
You can trust me on this, blood, or trust me on that
Smack your bitch wit the front of the gat, her ass crack
Smack your bitch wit the front of the gat, her ass crack
[P.R. Terrorist]
Smack your ass wit the ass of the chrome, the Spanish viking is home
Recitin' poems, to leave your weak ass in the zone, home
The kid's known, from my grain to the others
Bust a shot for my brothers, still poppin' rubbers
Keep a drop on the undercovers, and oversears wanna be us
But still can't see us wit the heaters
We got many of those, bullet holes left in your fuckin' clothes
Your fuckin' foes'll froze, for leakin' out your mouth and nose
I can't trust you, a year ago, almost had to bust you
A bust due, makin' this CREAM just disgust you
Gun scream, makin' this CREAM, it just digust you, yeah
The song “Trust Me” by P.R. Terrorist is one of the many tracks from his debut album “Life in a Cage” in collaboration with his fellow Wu-Tang Clan affiliate 9th Prince. The song starts with an intro where he asks his friend if he believes in the things he says, as he claims that people tend to doubt him. The chorus emphasizes on the phrase “Trust me”, followed by a line where both artists threaten to shoot somebody in the ass crack with the gun. The first verse by P.R. Terrorist talks about his own reputation as a poet and a shooter, and how he is known for his loyalty to his gang. He mentions that even federal authorities are after him, and concludes by saying that he can’t trust those who try to betray him, as he almost had to shoot someone a year ago.
In essence, the song is a typical Wu-Tang themed street philosophy that revolves around trust, loyalty, and arrogance. The artists talk about how they have earned their reputation on the street, and how nobody can match their skills in either poetry or shooting. The chorus reiterates that whatever they say should be taken seriously, and the consequences can be deadly if someone tries to act against them. The song was mostly appreciated by fans for its catchy hook and the aggressive tone of the MCs.
Line by Line Meaning
Yeah, yeah, got me son? (yeah no doubt)
Are you with me? (Of course)
You gonna hold me down on this one, kid (yea, no question)
You going to support me on this one, right? (Yes, definitely)
That's what I'm talkin' about
That's what I mean
You don't be believin' the shit I be sayin' sometimes (nigga, go ahead wit That shit)
Sometimes you don't believe what I say (keep talking)
Don't be likin' that shit, son, get on my nerves, son
Stop liking that thing, it's annoying (you're bothering me)
For real, you supposed to be my nigga, son, for real (I got you, son)
You're really supposed to be my friend (I understand)
You can trust me on this, son, and trust me on that
Trust me on multiple things
Smack your ass wit the face of the gun, her ass crack
Hit you with the gun and her butt will hit the ground
You can trust me on this, God, or trust me on that
Believe in me or believe in that
Smack your bitch wit the front of the gat, her ass crack
Hit your girlfriend with the gun and her butt will hit the ground
Smack your ass wit the ass of the chrome, the Spanish viking is home
Hit you with the butt of the gun, P.R. Terrorist is back
Recitin' poems, to leave your weak ass in the zone, home
Saying poems to leave you in the dust
The kid's known, from my grain to the others
I'm known in my neighborhood and beyond
Bust a shot for my brothers, still poppin' rubbers
Shoot for my fellow gang members and still use condoms
Keep a drop on the undercovers, and oversears wanna be us
Be careful around the police and other gangs want to be like us
But still can't see us wit the heaters
Still can't compete with us
We got many of those, bullet holes left in your fuckin' clothes
We have a lot of guns and will leave bullet holes in your clothes
Your fuckin' foes'll froze, for leakin' out your mouth and nose
Your enemies will freeze for talking too much and being weak
I can't trust you, a year ago, almost had to bust you
I can't trust you, I almost had to shoot you a year ago
A bust due, makin' this CREAM just disgust you
Shooting leads to monetary gain, but it disgusts some people
Gun scream, makin' this CREAM, it just digust you, yeah
Gunshots lead to monetary gain, but it disgusts some people
Contributed by Amelia M. Suggest a correction in the comments below.