Life in the City lyrics

by

Joell Ortiz


[Hook]
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 Fonto, no Backwoods, just Dutch Master
Fifth of Henn, a radio on Funkmaster
I don’t come from a wack hood where the ducks factor
Ten speed in a black hood, that’s a gun clapper
We shot fair ones ‘till someone dropped of lung asthma
Before this I lived a lifestyle like ''f*ck 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 n*ggas 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 p*ssy and the lobby tipsy
And I keep a Barbie with me looking good
My n*ggas can’t leave the country, I bring the country to the hood
Let's go - my real name my rap sh*t, I ain’t make believe
Same n*gga who got this break'll still break your knees
I‘m still playing Cee-Lo and the bank is cheese
Eight G’s I [?] better, feel that Vegas breeze?
Product of the gutter, no father, just a mother
Know you running, but run farther
When you hear me say “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 n*ggas won’t cause they can’t so they don’t copy
b*tches with they best friend be yelling “Go Papi”
Y’all n*ggas got these Freshmen feelin' so c*cky
But it's just a bunch of yes-men and a nobody
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 n*ggas aight, but you ain't quite like (YAOWA)
[Hook]
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