My City

It's over now!
Whoever want it, gonna get it
Raw motherfuckin' Reese
Niggas sayin' my name on CDs and shit
You know who the hardest nigga is!

(My city don't play that shit)
In my city, we don't play no games
In my city, we don't care 'bout your name
In my city, we throw them thangs
In my city, we don't care 'bout your game

Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, boys
I welcome you to East St. Louis, Illinois
But if you touch my shit, I'ma break your hand
Listen here, dawg, I'm a grown ass man
This my hood, yup, this my land
618, nigga, I ain't playin'
Got the block on lock, everybody knows that I can't be stopped
People try to jock but I can't be topped
People try to jack but he can't be topped, nigga, can't be topped
I don't give a fuck, nigga, this my city
In my city, I don't show no pity
If a nigga want beef, mothafucka, come get me
Might act silly but ain't shit pretty
Let out your tongue, roll it up like a Philly
Can't be stopped, OK, oh really?
Click click boom, get hit with the milli
Have your forehead just pourin' out chilly
Big tough guy just make me laugh
Do a lot of dirt but I still take baths
Count a lot of money but I don't like math
Tell the record label that a nigga want half
Can't do that you can kiss my ass
Now I'm in that 'Lac with that black gat on the lap
Hat to the back with a fat sack of that smoke
Raw reese and I ain't no joke
Still the hardest in the motherfuckin' city
Bad boy, but I ain't P Diddy
Niggas didn't want my city on the map, but now I'm here

(Everybody gon' play my shit)

Fuck that bus back u gon' make a nigga break the law
Talk back and I'm gon' break your jaw
It's me Raw Reece, R-A-W
Mothafucka, I told you in trouble dude
Get your ass shot while your baby mama cuddle you
Put you in a hearse then the dirt gon' cover you
I ain't got no line for no other dudes
Pull out the big 4-5 make you eyes feel like baby food
Man I'm a crazy dude...
Coppin' corn I was born 1-15-19-82
And the other ladies who
Have 'em screamin'
When they see me splurgin' on bling and I'm 22
Do what I gotta do
Matter of fact lemme take that back
I can do what I wanna do
Don't make me bus a shot at you
And y'all ain't worth shit you're irritatin' like a rock in the tennis shoes
Stop lemme finish you
Cause what I'm sayin' gonna make a rap sound like you in pre-school
Don't no body need you
And all that bull shit you rap about I don't believe you
And I don't wanna see you, on my block
If you come on my block, then your ass get shot
Nigga you don't wanna see me
When I'm mad, cause nigga when I'm mad
They zippin' up body bags
I'm a thug mothafucka with a sick mind
Big t-shirts, big jeans and a big 9
I be damn if I let a nigga take mine
I don't give a fuck if it ain't mine, I ain't dyin'
Y'all niggas can't hurt this
I don't really know what your purpose
But you better stay on your surface
I don't wanna see you out of town
Cause my referee blow that whistle
And it sounds out of bounds



Credits
Writer(s): Maurice Hines
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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