Lyrics:
the Soul Assassins in the dark town
And all my latin dog-niggas get to hold it down
Now your violatin' ''cause you haters know I'm waitin'
In the silver
Yeah
Railroad
Ay
Ay, Ay, turnup
Chi-town
Hands up, Hands up
Chi-town
Ay
Waking up at 5a (che)
Fell asleep onna freeway (skirt)
Iron bars shut my
Everything they say about Playboy Too
I'm $hort Dog, ain't nothing nice
I drink g-juice and wouldn't cut it with ice
From the Eastside baby, Oakland town
I do this if I do that
Dema say this dema say that
So I live my life o
Live my life o
Yeah!
I'm still a human so am learning everyday
We all dey make
This is my home town song, a how it's like at home song
spending hours all alone, waiting by the phone
it's hard to say come closer, when you're so
offended by this, but that's the market y'all missed
That's the target I'll hit
And that's the heart of my pitch
I wanna do this whole thing different
What
me
Through all the struggle still living my life nicely
Came from nothing but looking a little Pricey
You can call me Katie
not to be underestimated
this game to ya all damn night.
I'm Short Dog.
Ain't nothing nice.
I never rap fake when I'm on the mic.
I ride around town in a clean Benz.
And the pavement's glistening.
All Park Lane
In a shimmering gown.
Nothing ever could break or harm
The charm of London Town.
INTERLUDE
In our city
of London Town.
There's a little city flower every spring unfailing
Growing in the crevices by some London railing,
Though it has a Latin name, in town
There’s nowhere to be and there’s nothing to do in this town
Lazing away, waiting for the sun to come down
Our friends are gone and left us all alone
I work for a livin'
So, Mr., don't call me sir
I spend my whole life giving
For nothing much in return but scars and burns
Steel town
Living
know she's alive
Hustling and bustling with people who are all trying to get by to survive
Well, the city lives, they speak to me, they say what it's
it any mind
It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring
And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king
No nothin' ever would except maybe
she can’t afford to choose a fee
Cause it’s nothing but pimpin
They know it when I’m fucking with her
I’m a live and die by the rules o the game
hand outs, nigga
Let's get it
From the bottom of the bottoms
It was nothing under me
Now I'm that nigga, everywhere I go and I'm who all
Man, I've been riding through the country for a while now
Ain't nothing like home, but y'all make everywhere fell like home for me
Let's go
They
This the record that my backpack underground fans get to get to skippin'
Back back, Southern town fans get to tippin'
Chasin' fat stacks, runnin'
This the record that my backpack underground fans get to get to skippin'
Back back, Southern town fans get to tippin'
Chasin' fat stacks, runnin'
it's still the same
I've got nothing to say but it's okay
Good morning, good morning
People running round it's five o'clock
Everywhere in town is
Till he shimmy out of town
With his soldiers and his women
But for now, don't let him drown
That's enough of the nothing
Someone give me something
No one
Angels in this town
Lookin' out for me and you
All I know is I wouldn't be here now
Call it what you want
I swear there's angels in this town, this
I trust)
I been fucked by so many damn managers
While they push me out front of these cameras (managers, cameras)
All this music I done gave
men will tell no tales."
And pursued we were by many a ship, by frigates and liners too,
Till at last, the British man-o-war, the Dungeness, hove in
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