Lyrics:
it go?
Some believe in children. Even they now know
That we do believe in money, and gold is what it's for.
All the gold can't buy no peace of mind
So I let my mind penetrate the continuum of space
Turn stone plaques to gold
Gold turn to greed
Greed turn to more desire to be seen by the world
believe in mine
Do you like what you see
The mother of the night
Red and gold over me
My name in city lights
Nobody besides me
Drunk with the spirit, I
rushed
Snitchin' on them golden boys with the gold trust
Represented by the lawyers with gold cuffs
They order sweet potato with the gold crust
of swimming pools
Backstroke to my children room
Maybach in the living room
I spent racks on these tennis shoes
Niggas know what I'm finna do
Time for me
and spoiler alert. It has nothing to do with ugly Christmas sweaters, despite what some people believe, figuring out what Christmas and what Christmas music
Came in the game kicking doors, fucking hoes, and rocking gold
Now our pockets swoled
Been having hoes
Been having niggas on go
For real
Ask about it
the game kicking doors, fucking hoes
And rocking gold (Don't act like you don't
Know that shit nigga)
Now our pockets swoled (big racks)
Been having hoes
visibly shaken
Taken them plungers, plungin' to death that's painted by the numbers
With Krylon applied pressure, cats is playin God
By havin' children
of our children!!
What have we become? (they tell you what to)
Pseudomai
What have we become? Nation by nation
They tell you what to believe (and you
Suffer not Your neighbor's affliction
Suffer not Your neighbor's paralysis
But extend your hand Extend your hand
Lest you vanish in the city
to believe what I read
So I went to hide to get some peace of mind
To know more about myself
When I'm face by the force
Back is against the wall identifying
upon the sphinx with the body of a lion, never understood by science
Children of the stars, we are the children of the stars
Children of the stars, we
desolation
Harboring both the pride and the shame of the nation
Living in the old
City young
City bold
City gold
City grime
City rich
City poor
City roar
City
Down for My City yeah
What kind of city got the Saints on Sunday
Who Dat's reppin' for the Black and Gold everyday
What kind of city got the culture
stall
Stutter, softer than melted butter
There's no other word, go ask your mother
Hard solid as your city
Born in Brooklyn, can tell by the way that
Heart Full gold with da Ice in My veins uh/
Flow so Cold now the city know our names/
Never go broke made a promise like a ring/
Bitch I came in game
I don't believe in superstars
Organic food and foreign cars
I don't believe the price of gold
The certainty of growing old
That right is right
to death that's painted by the numbers
With crime unapplied pressure, cats is playing God
But having children by a lesser baby mother but fuck it
We
when food was scarce, he said his wife.
What will become of us?
We have so little to eat. I am afraid the children will starve.
Now the stepmother was
If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
Seem like the whole city go against me
Every time I'm in
the city looking
Back, you can actually
Pinpoint this transition, the very moment
Meek realized he could do this
Forever: he marked it
By cutting his hair
Talk about the crimes in Sun City
Let's get down to the real nitty gritty
And talk about the crimes in Sun City
A city of diamond, a city of gold
A city
here
Diverse City, are you gonna get it this year?
What you think of this here, gotta get with this here
Diverse City and we'll run it till He gets
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