Testi My City - Killa Kyleon

My City

84's under my fleetwood\nPockets stay fat cause they eat good\nBig finga on my like Eastwood\nIf a hater try me gon' sleep good\nSeats on lean and my top back\nOn my right side where your bop at\nTV’s lit you can watch that\nI got a pump in my trunk if I pop that\n5th wheel hangin' like deuces\nI’m on a set of 84's no deuces\nBut if I hit this button I’m ruthless\nShaw but shaw (short) and my paint job stupid\nBops love me like cupid\nPull up in the slab get schooled quick\nBig wheels poking like two bicks two sick\nGrey tape under my screw shit\nFour 15's I’m a freshman\nH-Town king I’m a veteran\nBig gun on me like a western\nRacks in my pocket, I’m countin' my blessin'\nPaint snow bottles in my section\nSleeping like a nigga ain’t restin'\nGettin' to the money no stressin'\nDiamonds on the wood grain wheel I’m pressin'\nMy trunk bang like gangs\nMy 4's swang like swangs\nI’m comin' through them lanes\nRockin' two chains like 2 Chainz\nEvery season some new mayne\nBy now you know how we do thangs\nI just bought a Bently betcha cocaine\nI’m rollin' slow and it’s slow like cruisin'\nWhere the cruiser, ya boys gone pass\nWill need a boss peep a weight (or way), I ain’t gotta drive fast\nThey say 200 on the dash but I ain’t never seen it\nNever dream I’d shine this hard, but I hustle like I’m feenin' beamin'\nLike the light when that Cadi take flight\nI’m smokin' on some kites\nI’m covered up in ice\nI’m with your bitch she lookin' nice\nGot these niggas lookin' twice\nI bust a dime bust a nut and gave her relationship advice, right\nAt the next light third house on the left\nPullin' up to the crib five bitches by myself\nThese niggas can’t keep up I still sweep the streets up\nAnd hustle every day 'til it’s time for me to re-up\nThug (thugga, thugga)\nI’m from the city of the syrup\nOnly young nigga in the city gettin' heard\nOnly young nigga in the city getting bread\nBut the whole damn city wanna hate on Kirk\nFuck y’all niggas but a nigga so real I support y’all niggas\nWhen they ask who cold, I report y’all niggas\nFuck talkin' ‘bout these hatin' ass niggas\nIn the city mayne I ain’t tryna bore y’all niggas\nUh, see it feels so good, but it hurts so bad\nMan you weren’t around when I didn’t have cash\nSay you weren’t around when I didn’t have a bed\nDidn’t have a whip, momma livin' bad\nSo I had to take everything out the stash\nAnd I had a number one song on the radio, man a hater talk about my past\nNigga don’t know so I gotta let him know\nI was so broke that I made it sound throwed\nI ain’t have money so I talked about the hoes\nAny sense in the city ain’t got know hope\nWhat the fuck you mean\nNigga I’m the king\nI ain’t Pimp C and I ain’t Bun B\nI ain’t Slim Thug and I ain’t Keke\nMan shout out to the vets but nigga I’m me\nGMB (GMB, GMB, GMB, GMB)