| Yeah, we got it poppin right now, Boston baby. |
| This is my town. |
| Uh ha
|
| I got some peeps with me though. |
| My man Singapore Kane, Termanology
|
| Ah ha. |
| We goin' in right now. |
| Hold it down for Boston baby
|
| It’s our time right now. |
| We ain’t got next, we got now You feel me?
|
| Boston, that’s what it is. |
| Ah ha, yeah, here we go
|
| «Reppin' Boston» — Big Shug
|
| It’s not the NBA, we don’t jump in the air and bump
|
| It’s around the way, where cats jump outta the car and dump
|
| Boston
|
| Where some cats, guns are props
|
| Some pop, some end up in the morgue shop
|
| From Blue Hill Ave, to Talbot Ave, to Derby Park
|
| I pushed the whips, hustle my money, and got my start
|
| Norfolk Park is where I rocked and bared my soul
|
| Boston, outta control, death toll
|
| We got cops on foot, and bike patrol
|
| It’s been the same way since I was eight years old
|
| Racism
|
| We beat that back
|
| I seen the whole world, but I still keep comin' back
|
| I love my town, not for Paul Revere
|
| But for Big Shug’s legend and Murderpan Square
|
| Touch the stage, as a GangStarr survivor
|
| I rep for Boston, and it gets no liver
|
| Than…
|
| Boston, aye
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| My town
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| «Reppin' Boston»
|
| My town
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| «Reppin' Boston»
|
| Yo, think of Boston I think of racists, Charles Stuart cases
|
| Crooked jakes shine flashlights in our faces
|
| Home of the Red Sox, Celtics, and the Patriots
|
| And crash dummy kids with guns ready to spray shit
|
| Every city’s the same shit, don’t matter the size
|
| Anywhere the population is poor, then you got crimes
|
| Some dudes be doin' crimes, some dudes be doin' rhymes
|
| Salute, my dawgs in the System doin' their time
|
| What you think? |
| Cause we got Harvard
|
| Boston niggas don’t be robbin', mobbin' when we starvin'?
|
| Smoke blunts like Redeye back in the Garden
|
| We’ll see who’s hard, when you’re confronted by my squadron
|
| Talk on and on 'bout your million gats, but if you’re pussy
|
| We’ll skin you like Brazilian Wax
|
| A lotta cats die flossin'
|
| Bitches shed tears for years cause you got Paul Pierced in my Boston
|
| Boston, aye
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| My town
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| «Reppin' Boston»
|
| My town
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| «Reppin' Boston»
|
| One two
|
| Jeah, it’s the L-A-W-T-O-W-N
|
| Law-town, niggas done it again
|
| Let me tell you 'bout my city
|
| It’s wild gritty
|
| I got a hundred and fifty spics that ride with me
|
| Wanna know 'bout crooked cops livin' in Boston?
|
| Hit the block, bust a homie, cop get the pardon
|
| You can learn about my Bean in Hi-D
|
| These sirens in my dreams
|
| It’s a wild scene
|
| Mamas in the street pick up their son, like «Why me? |
| «No I.D., the boy got stuck like I.V.s
|
| Throw my threes, these wild streets, can’t retire me
|
| On my beats, they all bang, like I signed with Preem
|
| Legendary like, Paul Pierce in the wheelchair
|
| Lotta cats hatin' on me, but I’m still here
|
| From Hell-town, back to Mattapan Square
|
| Beware!
|
| What a wonderful place to live
|
| Boston, aye
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| My town
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| «Reppin' Boston»
|
| My town
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| My Boston, ho
|
| My Boston, hey
|
| «Reppin' Boston» |