Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Boston, artist - Big Shug. Album song Lyrical Flow, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.04.2009
Record label: Eurostreetz
Song language: English
My Boston |
Yeah, we got it poppin right now, Boston baby. |
This is my town. |
Uh ha |
I got some peeps with me though. |
My man Singapore Kane, Termanology |
Ah ha. |
We goin' in right now. |
Hold it down for Boston baby |
It’s our time right now. |
We ain’t got next, we got now You feel me? |
Boston, that’s what it is. |
Ah ha, yeah, here we go |
«Reppin' Boston» — Big Shug |
It’s not the NBA, we don’t jump in the air and bump |
It’s around the way, where cats jump outta the car and dump |
Boston |
Where some cats, guns are props |
Some pop, some end up in the morgue shop |
From Blue Hill Ave, to Talbot Ave, to Derby Park |
I pushed the whips, hustle my money, and got my start |
Norfolk Park is where I rocked and bared my soul |
Boston, outta control, death toll |
We got cops on foot, and bike patrol |
It’s been the same way since I was eight years old |
Racism |
We beat that back |
I seen the whole world, but I still keep comin' back |
I love my town, not for Paul Revere |
But for Big Shug’s legend and Murderpan Square |
Touch the stage, as a GangStarr survivor |
I rep for Boston, and it gets no liver |
Than… |
Boston, aye |
My Boston, ho |
My town |
My Boston, hey |
My Boston, ho |
«Reppin' Boston» |
My town |
My Boston, hey |
My Boston, ho |
My Boston, hey |
«Reppin' Boston» |
Yo, think of Boston I think of racists, Charles Stuart cases |
Crooked jakes shine flashlights in our faces |
Home of the Red Sox, Celtics, and the Patriots |
And crash dummy kids with guns ready to spray shit |
Every city’s the same shit, don’t matter the size |
Anywhere the population is poor, then you got crimes |
Some dudes be doin' crimes, some dudes be doin' rhymes |
Salute, my dawgs in the System doin' their time |
What you think? |
Cause we got Harvard |
Boston niggas don’t be robbin', mobbin' when we starvin'? |
Smoke blunts like Redeye back in the Garden |
We’ll see who’s hard, when you’re confronted by my squadron |
Talk on and on 'bout your million gats, but if you’re pussy |
We’ll skin you like Brazilian Wax |
A lotta cats die flossin' |
Bitches shed tears for years cause you got Paul Pierced in my Boston |
Boston, aye |
My Boston, ho |
My town |
My Boston, hey |
My Boston, ho |
«Reppin' Boston» |
My town |
My Boston, hey |
My Boston, ho |
My Boston, hey |
«Reppin' Boston» |
One two |
Jeah, it’s the L-A-W-T-O-W-N |
Law-town, niggas done it again |
Let me tell you 'bout my city |
It’s wild gritty |
I got a hundred and fifty spics that ride with me |
Wanna know 'bout crooked cops livin' in Boston? |
Hit the block, bust a homie, cop get the pardon |
You can learn about my Bean in Hi-D |
These sirens in my dreams |
It’s a wild scene |
Mamas in the street pick up their son, like «Why me? |
«No I.D., the boy got stuck like I.V.s |
Throw my threes, these wild streets, can’t retire me |
On my beats, they all bang, like I signed with Preem |
Legendary like, Paul Pierce in the wheelchair |
Lotta cats hatin' on me, but I’m still here |
From Hell-town, back to Mattapan Square |
Beware! |
What a wonderful place to live |
Boston, aye |
My Boston, ho |
My town |
My Boston, hey |
My Boston, ho |
«Reppin' Boston» |
My town |
My Boston, hey |
My Boston, ho |
My Boston, hey |
«Reppin' Boston» |