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letra de detroit state of mind - elzhi

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[intro]
it’s elmatic
yeah, i’mma start this sh-t off, man

[verse 1]
yo, rappers i monkey-flip ’em, gorilla-stomp ’em
i’m out here with the dealers pumpin’, the k!llers dumpin’
dead bodies in lake michigan that shake fishermen
pimps turn into pastors, the fake bishops in the churches
and props determined off what you purchase
or who you murked just a week ago, dug up from searches
and police raids, decreased grades; someone deceased made
the front page, the priests prayed he went to heaven, but the beast stayed
now it’s a war, and flowers for more funerals
you see who’s soon to go a few hours before
it’s just the same story, they cutting more ki’s
when someone od’s in the same building on the same story
it’s that ruthless; drug addicts is toothless, turned doofus
responsible for how the wasted youth is
who run up in your shop and steal, popping pills
at the house party with a hoodrat copping feels
f-ckin’ raw, mentality’s like
f-ck the law, nowadays n-ggas buck when they woulda snuffed ya jaw
in the city of schemes where money is power
and shots go off at the funniest hour
now its breaking news, it’s best that you stay awake than snooze
they taking lives or they taking shoes
i jot it down like i’m langston hughes
and paint a picture in my good book thats full of verses
that ain’t a scripture nor from the religion
judges put men under the prison
them shorties screamin’ they riders, but ain’t none of ’em driven
i try to school ’em cause they dropped out, once they popped out the p-ssy
they mad because they p-ssy pops out, now they a b-st-rd
life can be fatal and a hazard, from the cradle to the casket
i’m rightfully raised around a life of crime, snitches dropping dimes
i think of rhymes when i’m in a detroit state of mind

[hook]
-scratches-
detroit state of mind
detroit state of mind
detroit state of mind
detroit state of mind

[verse 2:elzhi]
be having dreams that i’m a gangsta, sipping on bottles of rozay
chilling with my out-of-town connect named jose
tryna hustle for more pay, police in my doorway
i never have my head in the clouds cause they could go gray
and that ain’t my forte, so f-ck a job
or who i stuck and robbed just the other day
who’s listening to what they mother say about finishing school
to get they ged, while crackheads is tryna sling an hdtv
for rocks to snort? the fast life is why the time on ya clocks is short
even the shorties pulling glocks from they boxer shorts
rap sheet be so long that it shocks the courts
it’s why we called the murder city, tip a stripper then you can purr the kitty
bad boys before we heard of diddy
word, to maserati rick, demetrius holloway
and those who celebrate by busting guns on a holiday
happy to see another year end and begin
was told to watch for enemies that pretend to be friends
they hit you with the setup, i seen it all with my own two
the hood is like a gl-ss house the devil throws stones through
many are stressed off the henny or sess
maybe because the city is built above where indians rest
in peace, police found deceased, it’s hair-raising like kelis
d-boys high and workin’ they fleece, and bubble geese
i knew this fly chick, pretty right, she was my type – that crack sh-t
wasn’t hype, she fell in love with the pipe
she had dreams, of being the next d. ross of the supremes
overdosed in the lot, between the plot and the schemes

[hook]

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