| We pray for a better today, Glocks and berettas spray
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| Everyday, how did I survive yesterday?
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| I can’t call it, cops shot the alcoholic
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| The fiend saw it, he got the gun, he want a dime for it
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| The hood life, chicks and thugs, crips and bloods
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| Dippin' on the judge, pushin' whips and drugs
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| Burnin' big buds, gettin' love, spinnin' them dubs
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| For the taste of it, the low lifes’ll split your mug
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| It’s the home of the brave, the zone of the slave
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| We all want it, but gettin' it’s, a whole 'nother page
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| The young guns wantin' respect, flossin' the tech
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| Bitches wanna strip, now it’s all for the check
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| Yo, everyday, lives at stake, pies to bake
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| Same knife that cuts your throat divides the cake
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| For the hustlers, thugs, who scheme to survive
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| And all in between, scream «Fuck a 9 to 5»
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| In the bright lights, the big city
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| The thieves stay crawlin' at night, with eyes shifty
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| In the bright lights, the big city
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| The fiends come sortin' the price, with nine fifty
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| In the bright lights, the big city
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| They squeeze off, lustin' for shine and die quickly
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| In the bright lights, the big city
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| The streets take a whole of your mind, it gets gritty
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| Daydreams, bought and sold
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| The high price we livin' might cost your soul
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| Secret indictments, furrows, with roll hoes
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| Codefendant, I hope he don’t tell what he knows
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| Exposed to a life of crime since I was nine
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| Gettin' money by design, despite the time
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| Hustlin' to be a man and feed my fam
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| My wife, my seed, my land, completes the plan
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| Please understand, either legal or scam
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| I see the thieves in the van, I can’t beat the man
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| Still monster ballin', eatin', speakin' ebonics
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| Wit foreign cars, custom made clothes and chronic
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| Bank rolls and prophets, shine solar powered
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| Fine hoes that’s bout it, long as you keep they nose powdered
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| Obey street laws, careful what you say
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| You can play, but you might not make it through the day
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| It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
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| How I keep from goin' under, I’m used to gettin' over
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| I’m deep in the middle, indeed the heat sizzle
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| For the littlest beef, even the seeds keep pistols
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| Foreigners talk funny, friends they want from me
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| But all I need is long money and a strong honey
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| I need it «fast», I’m «furious» like Vin Diesel
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| I’m lookin' at my plate wit food for ten people
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| So, do what you gotta do, do what you want to
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| The blocks hot like a sauna, cops try to pawn you
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| The fiends trick you, dude behind you wanna get you
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| On the grind, your best friend’ll talk for a figure
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| Walk wit a nigga, see it, don’t talk about it, be it
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| Don’t walk around, then beat it, we all bound to feel it
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| This ain’t the town (for real), so watch your tour (that's right)
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| What’s goin' down (what's up), its poppin' off
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| Gritty… |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Big City, artist - Inspectah Deck. Album song The Movement, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп