Lyrics Man In My City - Cash Kidd, Doughboy Clay

Man In My City

Ayy, yo, Cash, I think we got one\nHe swear he the man in my city, but he ain’t got shit\nI be ridin' around with them drugs, a couple chopsticks\nCouple kids with me, my nigga, and they adopted\nThey don’t speak to strangers, my nigga, they be on nonsense\nThey’ll come and take your candy, they like to drop shit\nWe don’t dance unless we made hella profit\nOr water whippin' over the stove and watch it lockin'\nYou know you usin' A-1 yola, the fiends knockin'\nHe hungry, but he scared to hit the road, pull up your stockings\nBig B, we got a spot on West V and that bitch rockin'\nYou ain’t the man in my city, you ain’t made a hundred thousand\nIn order to have the streets, you need them real nigga vouchers\nI’m the man in my city, I’m the man in my city\nMan in my city, I’m the man in my city\nAyy, Sprinter van full of tools\nBanana clip on that Draco, bitch look like half of the moon\nYour bust' fake, them bitches plastic and fu'\nOur shit super white with black on the other side like Family Feud\nScrappin' with who?\nI’ll leave his top flat like a stool\nAyy, I was bored\nI just punched a Moncler jacket in June\nMan, I’ll pop out with that mopstick like the janitor do\nAnd dip before 12 get there like I ain’t graduate school\nStraps in the pool\nIf the boys raid this mansion, we through\nBlood on the firearm, like I peeled the scab off a wound\nShoot up your BM crib 'til she get her taxes and move\nLike a parent, I’m whackin' you soon for actin' a fool, I promise\nI’m not with the back and forth, we all action\nThey must’ve pressed caps lock, they all cappin'\nDodgin' raid vans with the pocket rocket, Lamar Jackson\nCan’t wait to run into you dummies like football practice\nLot of fraud action, I start hackin', card crackin'\nI like March Madness, I ball hard, my dawgs trappin'\nJust sent a hit, my nigga blitzed, this All-Madden\nI start taggin' shit everywhere like I’m yard sale-in'\nHard-headed, you a bitch ass nigga like a crossdresser\nStarted rappin', they was all clappin', but now they all jealous\nDamn, I can’t even trust my main bitch\nThe shit I seen, she probably out here on that same shit\nLane switch, I’ma cruise in my own lane\nJust pulled up on your bitch, got my soul drained\nAll blue hundreds, don’t ask me for no change\nStep out of line, a ratchet poppin' like the soul train\nBefore fame, Marc, you promised me you won’t change\nI’m tryna prosper, they want me stuck in my old ways\nYeah, they was hatin' on me when I ain’t have no pape'\nThat’s why I keep that strap on my waist like I got no shape\nI’m the man in my city, I’m the man in my city (\nDamazin Beats\nMan in my city, I’m the man in my city