Lyrics My City - Good Belt Gang, 2 Chainz, Bun B

My City

People die in, ride by in
People cry in, everyday
In my city, my city, in my city
People die in, ride by in
People cry in, everyday
In my city, my city, in my city
They hustle, they grind and they chussle
They struggle, they fight
They muscle they way to the top
No sobbin, no crying
They put they fire in the poest
And flowin they rhymin
They writing, they focused
They know that they glowing, they shining
Sub doping, they open, they loaking, they smokin
They dranking
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, they flippin, they slangin
They claimin blocks that they don’t own and die for em
They taking shots enduring pain 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, 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
I’m from the city where the babies killin babies
And the babies havin
Babies
Ain’t no ifs, 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 ho shit
Soon as the beef jump off, mix with they Glock up
Then ride around rock windows and hoops and tear your block off
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
What’s up america get back in the hood
You motherfuckers put crack in the hood, that’s why
For you to call me a street nigga it’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 will creep up to squeeze on you with the violence
Everyday in they life like mileage
So they go out in the streets smart despite college
The wrong mind frame with the right wallet
You are 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
Then go somewhere way up till the way up
A bunch of slum dog millionaires, yeah yeah