Life In The City

Life in the city is not very pretty

It seems like it's a waste of your time

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]

Trojans cause the lifestyles bust faster

No font on no backwood, just Dutchmaster

Fifth of Henn, a radio on Funkmaster

I don’t come from a wack hood with a Dutch factor

Ten speed in a black hood, that’s a gun clapper

We chop fair ones ‘till someone dropped of lung asthma

Before this I lived a lifestyle like "***** rappers"

A buck trapper up after dark with the cut cracker

Tucked up under the tongue, who want a buck half of

That’s a smiley face on your cheek, stitch ‘em up laughter

I snuffed son ‘cause he walked through with a rough hatter

Came in the store and stepped on my Timbs and made ‘em scuff faster

These *****s ain’t ‘bout that life, bunch of young actors

Play the right part when you see me, say "What up Scrapper?"

See you ain’t got to like me but you will respect me

Everytime you say you the nicest, boy, you indirect me

Jesus Christ I’m a crisis, you a sip of Pepsi

Little buds, little suds at the tip of a Nestle

I toot my own horn, I’m Dizzy Gillespie

And I reps my city correctly (YAOWA)

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]

One-two, my project gritty, extra far from pretty

Staircase sloppy pissy and the lobby tipsy

And I keep a Barbie with me lookin good

My *****z can't leave the country, I bring the country to the hood (let's go!)

My real name my rap *******t, I ain't make-believe (Joell)

Same ***** who got this break'll still break your knees (uh-huh)

I'm still playin Cee-Lo and the bank is cheese

Eight G's I fold better, feel that Vegas breeze?

Product of the gutter, no father, just a mother

Know you runnin but run farther when you hear me say "Word to my mother"

(Word to my mother!) Your boy is extra thorough, ask my borough

When I'm in Brooklyn they go nuts, you little squirrels can't buy a referral

These *****z won't cause they can't so they don't copy (nope!)

******* with they best friend be yellin "Go papi!" (yeah)

Y'all *****z got these freshmen feelin so ****y

But it's just a bunch of yes-men, and a no-body (ha ha!)

Just cause you write rhymes don't mean you rhyme right

You a light-high, don't jump and become a highlight

Lose sight of your hind legs and live in hindsight

Cause you *****z aight, but y'all ain't quite like (YAOWA)