A lot of people dying in my city
Crime rate it’s going up, it ain’t looking pretty
Some haters hit me up on the gram say they gon kill me
They gonna run in some problems, just know it’s with me
For when the sh*t gets sticky
Just know I got a choppa that holds 50
I ain’t killa but don’t temp me
See them ni**as and start squeezing until it’s empty
For when the sh*t gets sticky
Just know I got a choppa that holds 50
I ain’t killa but don’t temp me
See them ni**as and start squeezing until it’s empty
Growing up in the slums in these cold streets
Public housing rats and roaches plus there’s no heat
Cold nights, I was wrapped up in some cold sheets
I slept in class cause I never got no sleep
Mama had pay the bills, went short on groceries
Days I had to force myself to sleep cause I was hungry
Real talk we never really had no money
Mama came thru the next day to feed us something
Now I’m trapping turning nothing into something
ni**as dying in my city, only gun play
Shot a couple ni**as red light on a one way
There’s a war outside in the 6, we don’t run games
ni**as kill you on your block broad day, on the front page
Cow boy city, op block look like a gun range
Civilians praying that the killing gon end one day
But this been happening for years, ain’t nun change
Cause it’s real when you living in the field
You either make it, go to jail, or you get killed
The good die young so my youngins pack the steel
Come to my city, ni**as getting shot for real
But now ni**as tryna to rap and get a deal
But they be tryna kill the rappers getting deals
A lot of people dying in my city
Crime rate its going up it ain’t looking pretty
Some haters hit me up on the gram say they gon kill me
They gon run in some problems, just know it’s with me
For when the sh*t gets sticky
Just know I got a choppa that holds 50
I ain’t killa but don’t temp me
See them ni**as and start squeezing until it’s empty