Life in the city is not very pretty
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It seems like it's a waste of your time
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Trojans 'cause the lifestyles bust faster
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No font on no back wood, just Dutchmaster
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Fifth of Henn and a radio on Funkmaster
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I don't come from a whack hood with a Dutch factor
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Ten speed in a black hood, that's a gun clapper
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We chop fair ones till someone dropped of lung asthma
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Before this I lived a lifestyle like ''fuck rappers''
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A buck trapper up after dark with a cut cracker
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Tucked up under the tongue, who want a buck half of
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That's a smiley face on your cheek, stitch 'em up laughter
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I snuffed son 'cause he walked through with a rough hatter
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Came in the store and stepped on my Timbs and made 'em scuff faster
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These niggas ain't 'bout that life, bunch of young actors
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Play the right part when you see me, say 'What up, Scrapper?'
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See, you ain't got to like me but you will respect me
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Every time you say you the nicest, boy, you indirect me
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Jesus Christ, I'm a crisis, you a sip of Pepsi
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Little buds, little suds at the tip of a Nestle
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I toot my own horn, I'm Dizzy Gillespie
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And I reps my city correctly, YAOWA
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Life in the city is not very pretty
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It seems like it's a waste of your time
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One, two, my project gritty, extra far from pretty
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Staircase sloppy pissy and the lobby tipsy
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And I keep a Barbie with me looking good
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My niggas can't leave the country, I bring the country to the hood
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My real name my rap shit, I ain't make-believe
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Same nigga who got this break is still breaking knees
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I'm still playing Cee-Lo and the bank is cheese
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Eight G's I've fallen better, feel that Vegas breeze?
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Product of the gutter, no father, just a mother
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Know you running, but run farther
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When you hear me say 'Word to my mother'
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Your boy is extra thorough, ask my borough
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When I'm in Brooklyn they go nuts
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You little squirrels can't buy a referral
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These niggas won't 'cause they can't so they don't copy
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Bitches with they best friend be yelling 'Go Papi'
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Y'all niggas got these freshmen feeling so cocky
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But it's just a bunch of yes-men and a nobody
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Just 'cause you write rhymes don't mean you rhyme right
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You a light-high, don't jump and become a highlight
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Lose sight of your hind legs and live in hindsight
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'Cause you niggas aight, but you ain't quite like YAOWA
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Life in the city is not very pretty
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It seems like it's a waste of your time
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Life In The City
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| Slaughterhouse |
