Lyric

Rain on the roof, mud on the sole

Same damn story, four different souls

Everybody swear that they telling it whole

Truth got fingerprints nobody wanna hold

Who saw what?

Who said what?

Who drew first?

Who bled what?

Ask four mouths, get four new songs

Welcome to Rashomon

He said I came in hot, I said I came in peace

He said hand on steel, I said hand on keys

She said both of us lying through our teeth

Funny how the truth change shape when it breathe

One eye saw murder, one eye saw pride

One man saw fear, one woman saw lies

Camera caught ten, but missed what was inside

Everybody got footage, nobody got the why

Street got memory but memory get edited

Pain got captions depending who telling it

Facts get stretched when the ego get credited

Everybody innocent once lawyers get involved in it

I heard “respect,” he heard “watch your tone”

Same two words built two different roads

One went home, one carried that smoke

One little spark, now the whole block know

Truth ain’t clean, it come stained in blood

Get dragged through rain, get buried in mud

You call it facts, I call perspective and luck

Same glass shattered, different hands point up

Rashomon, Rashomon

Same night, different song

Everybody right, everybody wrong

Truth get dressed depending who got it on

Rashomon, Rashomon

Who you trust when the lights gone?

One story short, one story long

Replay that shit — something still feel wrong

She said he loved her, he said she used him

Friend said both got addicted to losing

Text got deleted, screenshots get chosen

Half of the evidence cropped for the posting

One man’s loyalty, another man’s leash

One man’s silence, another man’s peace

One man’s “business,” another man’s greed

One man’s hunger got another man squeezed

Cop say “order,” kid say “pressure”

Boss say “standards,” staff say “never”

Label say “family,” contract say “forever”

Funny how a warm word hide cold weather

Money talk fluent, truth need subtitles

Winner write history, loser write survival

Everybody holy inside their own Bible

Everybody got devils they call their rivals

I can tell you my side and make me look clean

Cut one scene, now I’m king on the screen

Add one detail, now you know what I mean

Truth ain’t dead — it’s stuck in editing

Rashomon, Rashomon

Same night, different song

Everybody right, everybody wrong

Truth get dressed depending who got it on

Rashomon, Rashomon

Who you trust when the lights gone?

One story short, one story long

Replay that shit — something still feel wrong

Now my turn, but don’t trust me either

I got scars that make memory leaner

I got pride that make guilt look cleaner

I got mirrors that flatter the speaker

Maybe I swung first, maybe I flinched

Maybe that threat was all in the pitch

Maybe his smile made the whole thing switch

Maybe I built that knife from a sentence he slipped

See, truth got layers like smoke in rain

One layer fact, one layer pain

One layer ego protecting a name

One layer fear trying not to look afraid

Everybody editing while they record