My City

People die in, drive by in

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

People die in, drive by in

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

(Ayo come around my way, dare you to cross the bridge)

They hustle, they grind and they tussle

They struggle, they fightin

They muscle they way to the top, no sobbin, no crying

They put they fire in the pours

They flowin, they rhymin

They writing, they focused

They know that they glowing, they shining

Sell dope in the open, they loaking, they smoking, they drinking

They hope to be sanging the ball and that’s all that you think?

They ripin off your chain they trippin and creepin they banging

They throwing up flames, dippin and flippin, they slangin

They claimin blocks that don’t own and die for em

They taking shots to ease pain and so we writing for em

To make em stop for a second cause everyone hurt

If I can give them a record, I’d give them one verse

I try to inspire, they survivin, they not living

You can’t make a prediction, the future’s not written

Although I’m not a physician I try to stop and listen

It’s like we got a condition, word

People die in, drive by in,

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

People die in, drive by in,

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

(Homie I’m Mack Maine chyeah, chyeah, uh)

I’m from the city where the babies killin babies

And the babies havin babies

Ain’t no if, ands and maybes,

All the pastors is crazy

The baby mama’s lazy

The congregation seem like they suffering from constipation

And since female seem like they on a slow shit

Niggas from my hood holler, we ain’t bout that hoe shit

Soon as the beef jump off, mix with they glock up

And ride around and rock windows and hoops to tear your block up

It’s where the youngest practice prostitution

And where niggas don’t give a fuck about the constitution

They say Abe Lincoln freed the slaves

But honestly homie we still slaves

And we don’t behave

Ever since Katrina, my niggas ain’t got sense

And they ain’t got funs, but they all got guns

Wuzzup America? Give back in the hood

You motherfuckers put crack in the hood, that’s why

People die in, drive by in

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

People die in, drive by in

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

For you to call me a street nigga’s just an accusation

You’re probably calculating, the fact I be with them workers without the application

Making money in the city I’m from, from grinding

Until they get us tired it’s after racism

Our actions is affirmative, come get the affirmation

With our minds we can move mountains like the Appalachians

Victims, of circumstance not stopping until the whole block flooded like urkle pants

Niggas that creep up to squeeze on you with the hood pack

Violence every day of they life like mileage

So they go out in the streets smart despite college

Yep, the wrong mind framed with the right wallet

You listening to the heart of the city

I’m part of the greediest place you can visit

Niggas even fill the may up, spray up

And go somewhere way up till the way up

A bunch of slum dog millionaires, yeah yeah

People die in, drive by in

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city

People die in, drive by in

People cry in, every day

In my city, in my city, in my city, in my city