Too $hort (too Short) - City of Dope

Song Rating: 7.41/10

Song lyrics:

City of Dope, I call it Oak
Cant be broke, selling coke
Fat ropes, shattered hopes
Fresh cars and all that dope
Baseheads keep the trade alive
Nobody know about a 9 to 5
Everybodys just trying to survive
You need a gun, cant use those knives
You got a bullet? Well just pull it
And if you trip, get pistol-whipped
By a psychomaniac sick in his head
Wanna be a gangster, now hes dead
His brother took over, aint no sweat
Bought a new drop-top white Corvette
Now hes buying keys, making Gs
And all the girls say Wont you please
Take me In the City of Dope

See Im hard as hell, no ghetto tale
You play a gun, but the game is real
You want to stop my money, how?
You keep smoking, Im selling out
Its called the City of Dope, might be your town
Get a piece of the rock, turn your life around
So cool, dont even trip
You got the sack, get on the tip
A resident in the City of Dope
And every day Im selling coke
Im never broke, I dont smoke
I sold a rock and made you have a stroke
Pay cold cash you know, I wont need Bruno
Ill hit you with my gat and then I wont come back
Like ym peanut butter top with the candy paint
All the high school tenders drop down and faint
In the City of Dope

Life in a coke town, heard it before
Think its all been said, but its so much more
Its like midnight, slanging rock
Task force just hit the block
Time to make a move, the spot got hot
You chase a cop, homeboy why not?
She lit the match and light the crack
Aint giving no b**hes no kind of slack
Or if youre playing the game, youre thinking the same
Goddamn that rock c**aine
Ive seen a lot of my friends go off that pipe

And every night smoke coke thats white
So when you get up, man, there you go
You and that pipe just dogging the hoes
In the City of Dope, and the story goes
Want to be like free, breaking millions of loaves
In the City of Dope, where the color is gold
On your neck, and your fingers, and your brand new Rolls
Enough said, but my rap wont end
Its on a one way trip to San Quinten
Like you my friend, aint nothing new
You want to grind that boat til its way past two
You say its not easy, that youre so hard
Sporting gold tone Zs, not credit cards
Got clout turn em out, you got b**hes
You say youre not fake, but Im telling you this is
The City of Dope, might be your world
Get a beeper homeboy and just sell that girl
Im from the town called The City of Dope
It couldnt be saved by John the Pope
So go on, live your life of crime
The beatll keep beating while I say my rhyme
In the City of Dope

Smoking weed, rolling em fat
You wonder where the boy learned to act like that
Hey was raised in the ghetto and felt the need
To roll a fat joint and smoke that weed
But the tale goes on and years went by
Another drug came and the boy got high
Ever since that day, he just wasnt the same
Where I come from, we call it rock c**aine
Where you come from, you might call it crack
But wherever he went, you see he never came back
I tried to tell the motherf**er, but he dont know
I say to coke, Pimp that ho
I dont live in a mansion but I drive a Benz
Cut to the turf and collect my ends
Say Look here freak, kick me down
I dont have time to talk right now
Got to go to, my next hoe
And get kicked down, a little more
Left right left, down the street
Getting paid freak by freak
There you see me, there you dont
You wonder will I, or wont
Is it yes, is it no?
But does it really matter you freaky hoe?
In the City of Dope

Date of text publication: 17.01.2021 at 16:06