J-RHELTHE CITY
Dirty South HyperLink
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song created                                

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
song updated                               

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
stations playing this song              
Hip Hop/Rap
Big Up
IndieMusicPeople

 

















Written by Jezreal Hood, Composed by Kamal Gillespie, Remixed by Supasize

(1st verse)
Converse sneaks, check! Jeans with a crease, check!
Press up shirt, with the hammer on my hip, yeap!
That’s for anybody thinking that I’m going to slip,
Getting the banging on your ass like the bloods and the crips, (hey)
Try to hold me down, but these haters lost their grip
Now I’m floating in the sky like the Goodyear blimp.
I’m realistic, these niggaz ain’t shit
Call them lego men, they’re made of plastic (hey)
Grab the trash bag for these garbage bastards (hey)
Getting extra mics like these niggaz classics
But I’m way better than more than a tad bit
Try to pull a nigga down, how low can a crab get?
Gotta quarantine a nigga cause the flow is too sick
Flow immaculate, spitting rounds like clips (hey)
Try to lock me to lock me down, but I got it lock down
With the key to the city taking picture with the crown, like uh!
(Hook)
I from the city where they be getting to the money,Get dough!
Five, ten, fifty to a hundreds, Get mo!
Stay strap cause the streets so grimy, Get low!
One to the head, put his ass on silence
I’m from the city where them boys like to shine, Keep stunting!
Top down, twenty-sixes on the ride, (hey) Keep stunting!
Blanking out when they’re throwing up their signs
Ya’ll know how it goes down!
(2nd verse)
Sharp to my left (check) bless to my right (check)
Drama I aint worrying about, both games tight (yeap)
Fly as we want to be, hoes on the pipe
Middle fingers to the haters, it’s the Truders for life (hey)
Told you I was coming, now I got the streets humming
Niggaz getting record deals but they aint saying nothing
Yea, I’m a boss, ya’ll just a tax write off
Superman of the city, watch the boy fly off (hey)
Steady on my grind cause I’m about getting rich (hey)
Westside nigga on my Westside shit
Gotta Westside swagger with a eastside chick
She be loving how I be giving her that westside dick
On West Boulevard yea I’m bumping my shit
Call me Barry Bonds cause the boy make hits
Got the city on smash, with the hammer in the dash
If you run up on me plotting I’m going to let this bitch blast like, eh!
(Hook)
(3rd verse)
Yea, I told you’re listening to something you’re not use to
Better than the rest of them, my flow get like voo-doo
Excuse you, you claim you’re number one; I’m bout to move you
Number one contender moving up just to abuse you
Watch just how I just cruise through, any hood
Pulling up on the block like what’s really good
Don’t smoke purp but I know niggaz who got plenty of
No I am not a gangster, but I know niggaz with semis cuz
One pull of the trigger have you laying down in plenty blood
Raise by some ole G’s, ole G’s schooled me,
Every since I was in school, hoes wanna to do me
Yea, I heard your song, but your lyrics don’t move me
So I gonna to set the bar so the people wont confuse me
With these lame rappers who be talking about nada
You boys ice cold, while I steaming like a sauna
No gangsta, no grill, but I still bring the drama, I keep it so hood man
(Hook)
Ya’ll know how it goes down!
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