City High, Booga Bassment Here come another one, uh I know things ain't work out for you and me But don't worry 'bout my child Cause I'm gonna take
City High, Booga Bassment Here come another one, uh I know things ain't work out for you and me, lady But don't worry 'bout my child 'Cause I'm gonna
Traduzione: Città Alta. Perché.
tree I'm livin low, but most of it's high Cotton mouth the most I think I'll blame it on the buddah thai And that's why, I live off the gat Why throw
ghetto lootin The moms and pops and retails hear Ski puttin in work Pull up on the block bompin it hurts (Why) Makin ya whole hood feel me like grill And have your whole city high
D.E [Verse 1:] H.I.L.L.S.I.D.E M.A.G.A.Z.I.N.E. Vallejo, California my city No pity, for a sucka can't be no sissy Motherfuckers smoke weed like a hippy
Benz truck with my ends up To prove city housin, wheres plenty wildin But there's many thousands of us prepared to do whatever The higher power ask of
your back around the pigs goddamnnn macoots running down ready to pull out Hand cuffs my nagger G-Jay didn't know why the fuck he got locked up in NY reason why
dollar, son, I see through it, I gotta follow (c'mon) If ya ain't borrow money I gotta holla (holla) Simple and plain (plain), the reason why I entered
, I'd probably get wit ya If not burn it, get hot like a furnace Shoot the video motherfuck city permits We own the city, on the phone with Diddy (*
Uh, Yeah, Somalia Yeah, I spit it for my block, It?s an ode, I admit it. Here the city code is lock and load Any minute is rock and roll And you rock
make 'em all fall down 'Til they kneal and get the feelin, Motherless and Heaven-bound (Heaven-bound) Don't ask me why I chase the cat Or do the dog-
I get the feeling when I'll be sane, It's too much, I'm not sure how much more I can take, I need a little time to make sense, Of how I got so high so
D's Oh why do I live this way? (Hey, must be the money!) If you wanna go and get high wit me Smoke a L in the back of the Benz-y Oh why must I feel
(Music: M. Karlsson; Lyrics: J. Lundholm) As a problem child I couldn?t understand Why my daddy threw me out To hit the streets at an early age,
ain't afraid to die, I want to see what's after this I'm living blind writing rhymes Til they capture this And if we die let the world understand why
you don't fuck, you don't, you don't do a goddamn thing I see death around the corner, gotta stay high while I survive In the city where the skinny niggas
