Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Looking over a City, artist - Latyrx.
Date of issue: 23.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Mobile Home
Song language: English
Looking over a City |
Is there anyone close. |
by. |
who can listen to this? |
And who can see it. |
plain as day |
Look how it FALLS down |
Falls down upon everybody! |
This is it Looking, over a city, that’s gritty, and rather pretty |
A pity, it’s hard to find, but inequity, cover |
Every itty bitty square diamond of jiggy |
They givin ??, up to woodsy |
Manipulatin they minds in the alleyways |
These dizzy and shitty rats, the sizes of kitty-kats |
They cross paths when traffic subsides; |
somewhere |
Some brothers is overstandin on a hot black rooftop |
Freestylin for they GOT damn lives, the spirit, it gets live |
And answers the question why God blessed the Earth |
But, buildings block out the sky, and the children |
Are oversexualized, media-wise, brutalized by parents |
At the tender age of five, in front of they siblings wide-eyed |
Nah not surprised, just the real scene regularly |
Up in between the lies, try to put it together GET |
They pieces of the pie, hope they clever and tough |
Make it better before they die, plant the next seeds |
Somewhere in the South Bronx, or Patterson ?? |
The baddest with sharp chomp, to splatter when mouths-off |
Retali' and swear he could damage em Dunn |
But that will shatter his Mom’s faith |
In the art that she burns, herbs and candles of perm' |
It’s hard to call it see cause times change and the world turn |
Some end up slangin dope, some end up strung out |
On coke and sherm, some party every night for the rest of they life |
And some learn, go corporate all professional rhetoric |
With sensational glory, let me tell you all one day |
That it is it ain’t boring, and so hard to ignore it Cause any day in this fork, that they callin New York |
Based on nothin but currents, you can find yourself a failure |
Or a success story |
On the subway, at three in the mornin, huh |
Or on the corner, or up on a rooftop yawnin |
Meditatin upon it, lookin over a city that’s gritty |
And rather pretty, a pity |
It’s hard to find but inequity covers every itty bitty |
Square diamond, the engine, of America, inchin |
Toward hysteria, pimpin, every fate |
My friends are the faces you sit on, lickin a profit popsic' |
Where food is just a necessity between sitcom watchin |
Soak up quick image instead of black marks on papyrus |
Fabric logic, where true to dirt perps go incogninant |
Think of Soup Nazi, empatzi project hard copy |
Books will suffer Farenheits, quality of life flesh sliced |
Omega daylight quota, pop luck lottery info |
GigaPet rapist, internet pedophile disco |
Sensationalist function of truth, dirty ass fetish |
Glass bubble lo-cal profile, the year’s fiscal |
Workin family, Social Jowe, boot camp |
Rehab group home kid, idolized cartoon missile |
Mostly, lonely, plant life |
Cement arena scream when you don’t listen closely |
Switchblade amaze young gun Brooklyn blood transplant |
Immature Menendez fashion |
Crystal Method lover, buy the bottle, jungle captive |
Where MC’s got little cocks on teeth with fillings out like magnets |
Caught up in the dragnet, tri-felon |
Shoula packed a plastic handheld lead shark repellant |
I sense the tension building, since canvas killing |
K-9's roam trained our district |
Culture murder politic sadistic |
Policy ?? |
backtrack, caught up in a tune from rockin fat cap |
I told him it was art but just got laughed at Burner liquid concoction on hot celsius |
And kelpachlorics for the fatal facial, spray deface you |
Sooner than never, most lawless progress together |
Fuck the bullshit, I react to acid flux product definitive junk |
Brain rape train bottle burners or books, FUCK THAT! |
Imagine this, Angeles, or San Francisco |
And everybody sandwiched in, can’t stop here and ambulences |
Don’t nobody ass-kiss, ain’t practical bein passive |
In the city you ask so much ass and mo' asses |
It’s a batch of latin girl, actin rappin off the spanish |
English quest, can’t understand, as the languages clash |
And every ad is vandalism, the trash gets aneurysms |
It’s delegates and panelists all representin they nationalism |
And the battle inches on, every section seperated |
By eth-nic features decorated veterans deliverin |
Les-sons to the younger people stoops that double as bleachers |
And I’m part, of an elite fleet, of MC’s, and Truthspeakers |
I import, concrete beats, that just speak, when my moods flavor |
My peers I beg forgiveness, I just don’t buy twelve inches |
Too many independents, they share the same resemblence |
Too hard to make decisions, I built up a resistance |
Like I’m fightin off a sickness plus they just don’t hold my interest |
But, missionin out, to the indigineous birthplace |
The first day, I inched below the sur-face |
And found, inspiration, in surplus, in my, in-terpretation |
Of disturbed crazy world, of love, dope shit, attemptin contemplation on Uniquely woven and continously flowin intricately sewn into |
The fabric of the nation New York City keep on mowin em down baby! |