Lyrics:
full of Cuyahoga booze, and listen
I stayed away from reading The Plain Dealer (yup)
Most of my niggas back in Cleveland were playin' dealers, uh
Cleveland Cleveland Cleveland
Cleveland Cleveland Cleveland
Cleveland Cleveland Cleveland
Cleveland Cleveland Cleveland
Poverty, drug dealers
only girl
There's not much I can say
You're in Cleveland today
You're in Cleveland today
Stewardesses like Cosmo magazine
Vogue makes me nervous,
Born and raised
In a motel in New Orleans
I ran away
with a hobo and his gypsy friends
We rode a freight train up to Cleveland
Across the Utah
and centerfolds
And double dealers who take it back
If he should mud yer daughter, throw 'I'm back
I'm gonna drive
I'm gonna drive
I'm gonna drive
I'm gonna drive
Dealer
Bring me men, bring me men to match my mountains
Bring me men, bring me men to match my plains
Men with Empires
Men with Empires in their purpose
Cleveland, Philly too, Chi-Town, VA, Bmore, what it do? What's up?
What's really goin' on?
Tellin' me I gotta put my feelings on this song
Tell 'em 'bout
and children cry
Past the phony posers with their worn out lines
The tired new money dressed to the nines
The low life dealers with their bad designs
Dealer for the people
Dealer for my heart
Dealer for the people
Dealer for my soul
Dealer for the people
Dealer for my whole
Last name Elder
First
motherfucker
The only number calling up my phone
Is from my dealer, swear that dude won't leave me alone
'Cause he knows when I pick up, I'ma cop a couple
It's not a game, it's war, plain and raw
Blood stain the wall when I bring
The chain with the saw
Bring the pain to your door
Like death was knockin'
nigga
When people hate on Cleveland
I stand up nigga wOW in my APC
AA get the best plain tees
When I head to the grammys
I might dress tacky
Cause all
to hit the dealer, then a nigga drove it out
When 'em doors go up, all them panties fallin' down
Niggas ain't know me then, but 'em niggas know me know
Out on the range again
I know I've got to beware
High plains drifter my friend
I know I've got to be there
You say I've got to be gone
I ain't no nigga, fuck that shit
Does everything come out your mouth got to be a 4-letter word?
The way you talk about women is bullshit, plain
on
Playin' ray-cash, get my Cleveland city on
Brooklyn to Cali, jet lagged and all
There's still enough time to hit the mall
Shit, one wish when I'm deceased
my nigga
Through the weather the storms...
[Bizzy Bone]
There was a thug I knew in Cleveland, strugglin hard to survive
He wanted the finer things in
the corner
Paper tag this is not a loaner
Drug dealer, this one for the owners
This ain't for the leasers
Tom Ford loafers, you could never tie my sneakers
they lit him up good
And you can still find me, where (You know we no bullshit)
East 99, drug dealers and po-po, yeah that's St. Clair
Bone runnin'
Straight off the porch, I'm in a Porsche (skrrt)
Get off on Cleveland
Oops, I mean Bleveland (gang
Okay, they see the steel (slatt)
Diamonds on me for
Regenerate the impoverished souls
that echo you
Bleed to feed the masses
soup line two times two
They got your picture from the Sunday plain
(Cleveland status) yeah
Yeah, yeah (Plain Pat, what up?)
Whoa, Nellie, I don't even think they ready
They flow is too shitty, not me I can't get
they lit him up good
And you can still find me, where (You know we no bullshit)
East 99, drug dealers and po-po, yeah that's St. Clair
Bone runnin'
High post, plain coast with a bunch thug niggas, drug dealers
Project fools, C-Murder past them tools
Shit I'm bout to make these motherfuckers get up
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