作词 : Al Eaton/T. Shaw 作曲 : Al Eaton/T. Shaw City of ******, I call it Oak Can't be broke, selling coke Fat ropes, shattered hopes Fresh cars and all that ****** Baseheads keep the trade alive Nobody know about a 9 to 5 Everybody's just trying to survive You need a gun, can't use those knives You got a bullet? Well just pull it And if you trip, get pistol-whipped By a psychomaniac sick in his head Wanna be a gangster, now he's dead His brother took over, ain't no sweat Bought a new drop-top white Corvette Now he's buying keys, making G's And all the girls say "Won't you please Take me" In the City of ****** See I'm hard as hell, no ghetto tale You play a gun, but the game is real You want to stop my money, how? You keep smoking, I'm selling out It's called the City of ******, might be your town Get a piece of the rock, turn your life around So cool, don't even trip You got the sack, get on the tip A resident in the City of ****** And every day I'm selling coke I'm never broke, I don't smoke I sold a rock and made you have a stroke Pay cold cash you know, I won't need Bruno I'll hit you with my gat and then I won't come back Like ym peanut butter top with the candy paint All the high school tenders drop down and faint In the City of ****** Life in a coke town, heard it before Think it's all been said, but it's so much more It's like midnight, slanging rock Task force just hit the block Time to make a move, the spot got hot You chase a cop, homeboy why not? She lit the match and light the crack Ain't giving no ************ no kind of slack Or if you're playing the game, you're thinking the same Goddamn that rock ************ I've seen a lot of my friends go off that pipe And every night smoke coke that's white So when you get up, man, there you go You and that pipe just dogging the hoes In the City of ******, and the story goes Want to be like free, breaking millions of loaves In the City of ******, where the color is gold On your neck, and your fingers, and your brand new Rolls Enough said, but my rap won't end It's on a one way trip to San Quinten Like you my friend, ain't nothing new You want to grind that boat til it's way past two You say it's not easy, that you're so hard Sporting gold tone Z's, not credit cards Got clout turn 'em out, you got ************ You say you're not fake, but I'm telling you this is The City of ******, might be your world Get a beeper homeboy and just sell that girl I'm from the town called "The City of ******" It couldn't be saved by John the Pope So go on, live your life of crime The beat'll keep beating while I say my rhyme In the City of ****** Smoking ************, rolling 'em fat You wonder where the boy learned to act like that Hey was raised in the ghetto and felt the need To roll a fat joint and smoke that ************ But the tale goes on and years went by Another drug came and the boy got high Ever since that day, he just wasn't the same Where I come from, we call it "rock ************" Where you come from, you might call it "crack" But wherever he went, you see he never came back I tried to tell the mother******, but he don't know I say to coke, "Pimp that ho" I don't live in a mansion but I drive a Benz Cut to the turf and collect my ends Say "Look here freak, kick me down I don't have time to talk right now" Got to go to, my next hoe And get kicked down, a little more Left right left, down the street Getting paid freak by freak There you see me, there you don't You wonder will I, or won't Is it yes, is it no? But does it really matter you freaky hoe? In the City of ******
作词 : Al Eaton/T. Shaw 作曲 : Al Eaton/T. Shaw City of ******, I call it Oak Can't be broke, selling coke Fat ropes, shattered hopes Fresh cars and all that ****** Baseheads keep the trade alive Nobody know about a 9 to 5 Everybody's just trying to survive You need a gun, can't use those knives You got a bullet? Well just pull it And if you trip, get pistol-whipped By a psychomaniac sick in his head Wanna be a gangster, now he's dead His brother took over, ain't no sweat Bought a new drop-top white Corvette Now he's buying keys, making G's And all the girls say "Won't you please Take me" In the City of ****** See I'm hard as hell, no ghetto tale You play a gun, but the game is real You want to stop my money, how? You keep smoking, I'm selling out It's called the City of ******, might be your town Get a piece of the rock, turn your life around So cool, don't even trip You got the sack, get on the tip A resident in the City of ****** And every day I'm selling coke I'm never broke, I don't smoke I sold a rock and made you have a stroke Pay cold cash you know, I won't need Bruno I'll hit you with my gat and then I won't come back Like ym peanut butter top with the candy paint All the high school tenders drop down and faint In the City of ****** Life in a coke town, heard it before Think it's all been said, but it's so much more It's like midnight, slanging rock Task force just hit the block Time to make a move, the spot got hot You chase a cop, homeboy why not? She lit the match and light the crack Ain't giving no ************ no kind of slack Or if you're playing the game, you're thinking the same Goddamn that rock ************ I've seen a lot of my friends go off that pipe And every night smoke coke that's white So when you get up, man, there you go You and that pipe just dogging the hoes In the City of ******, and the story goes Want to be like free, breaking millions of loaves In the City of ******, where the color is gold On your neck, and your fingers, and your brand new Rolls Enough said, but my rap won't end It's on a one way trip to San Quinten Like you my friend, ain't nothing new You want to grind that boat til it's way past two You say it's not easy, that you're so hard Sporting gold tone Z's, not credit cards Got clout turn 'em out, you got ************ You say you're not fake, but I'm telling you this is The City of ******, might be your world Get a beeper homeboy and just sell that girl I'm from the town called "The City of ******" It couldn't be saved by John the Pope So go on, live your life of crime The beat'll keep beating while I say my rhyme In the City of ****** Smoking ************, rolling 'em fat You wonder where the boy learned to act like that Hey was raised in the ghetto and felt the need To roll a fat joint and smoke that ************ But the tale goes on and years went by Another drug came and the boy got high Ever since that day, he just wasn't the same Where I come from, we call it "rock ************" Where you come from, you might call it "crack" But wherever he went, you see he never came back I tried to tell the mother******, but he don't know I say to coke, "Pimp that ho" I don't live in a mansion but I drive a Benz Cut to the turf and collect my ends Say "Look here freak, kick me down I don't have time to talk right now" Got to go to, my next hoe And get kicked down, a little more Left right left, down the street Getting paid freak by freak There you see me, there you don't You wonder will I, or won't Is it yes, is it no? But does it really matter you freaky hoe? In the City of ******
