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letra de city 2 city - jay furr

[intro: jay furr]
(you got this beat from ant)
yeah, yeah
let’s go
yeah
yeah

[chorus: jay furr]
ayy, ooh, city to city, b-tch, i’m countin’ racks up
these n-ggas b-tches, i know that they cap up
i’m in the back smokin’ dope, countin’ racks up
big ass glock make a f-ck n-gga back up
we pullin’ up six deep in a black truck
you know i ain’t trippin’, big bro keep a mac tucked
you know i ain’t trippin’ ’cause i’ma go far
i’m smokin’ dope, feel like i’m on mars

[verse 1: jay furr]
you cannot try us, you can’t pull our card
we up a glock, turn his ass to a track star
and he ain’t on sh-t, we know he just act hard
if rappin’ don’t work, then i am a trap star
put him on a shirt, run up in his traphouse
we pullin’ up to your block, it’s a blackout
he cry over b-tches, yeah, he is dramatic
and if it’s some tension, we gon’ let you have it
pull up with that f-ck sh-t, we want all the static
b-tch, this is a rollie, b-tch, this not a patek
that lil’ n-gga broke, that sh-t must be tragic
b-tch, i’m a cash fiend, i think i’m an addict
addicted to green, i gotta go grab it
bentley truck cream when we be in traffic
run up on me, b-tch, is you serious?
exotic cars like fast and the furious
b-tch, we ain’t friendly, get k!lled if you curious
big bro off a bean, you know ain’t no fear in him
he ain’t talkin’ money, so no, i ain’t hearin’ him
glock with a beam, long live nick, no more k!llin’ us
[verse 2: warhol.ss]
yeah, glock with a beam, make his car do a cartwheel (bah)
folks hit the wocky, ho, tell me how drop feel (yeah)
k with supressor, we blow out an area (bah)
know i’ma k!ll ’em, so ain’t no comparison (know i’ma k!ll ’em)
i’m on that ‘lato (‘lato, b-tch)
higher than a motherf-cker (yeah)
hop out a foreign with jay, that’s my blood brother (skrrt)
if he speak on the gang, then them slugs comin’ (yeah)
deuce on the cream (deuce)
fendi on me and my b-tch in celine (yeah)
i just poured a whole pint, spent a ticket on lean (yeah)
i be prada steppin’, n-ggas knowin’ i’m clean
and these b-tches f-ckin’, so these n-ggas is sick
i just went up on crenshaw with two of my crips (yeah)
and the marathon runnin’, you know it’ll continue
and them choppers on me if he havin’ an issue

[chorus: jay furr]
ayy, ooh, city to city, b-tch, i’m countin’ racks up
these n-ggas b-tches, i know that they cap up
i’m in the back smokin’ dope, countin’ racks up
big ass glock make a f-ck n-gga back up
we pullin’ up six deep in a black truck
you know i ain’t trippin’, big bro keep a mac tucked
you know i ain’t trippin’ ’cause i’ma go far
i’m smokin’ dope, feel like i’m on mars

- jay furr

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