Songtexte:
The Matches Their City

no chase Brought our feast (their city) Of Mission grease (their city) To freeze our tits off (their city's awake) On Baker Beach (their city's awake

baby? Yeah? Look?.. I said I used to cut the porch lights on and now I cut the porches lights on just to let them know their foresights wrong where this

tan pitchen, corner to the damn kitchen gained a couple fans having made the transition but im still in the hood like a transmission no cat can match

new shit drop To all my peoples in the hood on their way to the top Get yours, whether anybody likes it or not From city to city, and coast to coast Real

bullets, swell up your chest like mastisses I've mastered this rap scene Blasted every wack cat I've seen I've got the best flow, no match for this West

city take this crack between ya thighs... (Yeah) (Mickey what you mean) I'm promethazine fuck the queen Sniff the white horse of success and then let him lean... (Let'em see) Tryna match

emptying glasses This is London City The best city in the world When everybody's not shankin' and blasting Young men moving to music And females shaking their

it? Will he survive? Terror in his eyes Night the city cries Payback is crime He damn near died Banished my wounds not mine The city cries, drama ride

Lick a shot for the predicate felons and gangster niggas That know that doing their time is better than tellin' Don't tell Dog, lick a shot for the graveyard