My City
Im From a City where everybody Getting killed
It don't seem real little kids toating steal
Out here in the streets where they call it the field
Posted up to fail they cant even make bail
But they raising up hell throwing fingers to 12s
Posted on the block they got weed for sell, some got D for sell
Some gotta speak thru mail some gotta speak through coffins
We gotta grieve for the lost ones
This a city of hate where the smiles fake ya own friends be snakes
They wanna be in ya place cops cant even solve a case and they be a block away
Babys cant even play they get hit with a stray
This a city of potholes gotta drive like you swerving
Shorty's toating glocks hitting blocks like they purging
All the fake claiming real now it look like a circus
Put it on they dead homie be lying and still merch it...
Fake friends gotta call those frenemy's
They stab you in the back if they see they you getting cheese
I ride around tinted windows on limousine
Looking out picture perfect looking in you cant see a thing
Hting blocks glocked up incase the opps try to pop up
Drugs in the stash incase the cops try to stop us
Bait trucks in the hood just to get us locked up
Cops on killing sprees blaiming us and its not us
Its people on the grind in the chi tryna make it out
But you cant shine if you glow they a take you out
Im tryna run it up to the top and start planking
Watch out for the scammers if they ask who you bank with
Late night crusing lake shore blowing dank sht
Real niggas with me t'd up goin ape sht
Started from the bottom, fresh out the basement
Now its bad hoes and cinos on our way to greatness
It don't seem real little kids toating steal
Out here in the streets where they call it the field
Posted up to fail they cant even make bail
But they raising up hell throwing fingers to 12s
Posted on the block they got weed for sell, some got D for sell
Some gotta speak thru mail some gotta speak through coffins
We gotta grieve for the lost ones
This a city of hate where the smiles fake ya own friends be snakes
They wanna be in ya place cops cant even solve a case and they be a block away
Babys cant even play they get hit with a stray
This a city of potholes gotta drive like you swerving
Shorty's toating glocks hitting blocks like they purging
All the fake claiming real now it look like a circus
Put it on they dead homie be lying and still merch it...
Fake friends gotta call those frenemy's
They stab you in the back if they see they you getting cheese
I ride around tinted windows on limousine
Looking out picture perfect looking in you cant see a thing
Hting blocks glocked up incase the opps try to pop up
Drugs in the stash incase the cops try to stop us
Bait trucks in the hood just to get us locked up
Cops on killing sprees blaiming us and its not us
Its people on the grind in the chi tryna make it out
But you cant shine if you glow they a take you out
Im tryna run it up to the top and start planking
Watch out for the scammers if they ask who you bank with
Late night crusing lake shore blowing dank sht
Real niggas with me t'd up goin ape sht
Started from the bottom, fresh out the basement
Now its bad hoes and cinos on our way to greatness
Credits
Writer(s): Darrell Hairl
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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