Young Chris - City of Sin lyrics

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Young Chris - City of Sin lyrics

[Verse 1 - Lloyd Banks] Hater close your eyes now, picture me rollin My paper thick, my b**h is swollen Not cuz I hit her, I mean she holdin' Hit ‘em with this explosion Lift her, slam her, I'm Hulk Hogan Handing out all these headaches Need a million ibuprofen Blondy and brunette pokin' Adidas and Nike open They weeded and might be holdin' Don't feel the a raft of the slum Ain't no jokes in this game f** you laughing at son The man that's behind my cult Been lifting up every tree Thank heavens for my results This is for Heavy D This is my brighter side, rocks get of the LAD Carmelo to NYK, Blake Griffin to LAC You n***as fishing fool, you start no pitch in the rule I tell your mama you ain't sh**, put the clip on YouTube On that "Ravishing" Rick Rude, a pile of karats sick j**els I've been sick since 16, they sleepin on they fools [Hook] Come around where we lay You'll see just what we say We sin & we pray And hope that sh** be ok I get that dough everyday Grab all the weed out the tray Roll my troubles away Smoking my troubles away Out here, we die every day It feels like violence the way Them n***a hungry as hell And got they eye on the pay I never mind what they say Pop the f**in rozay And drink my troubles away Drink my troubles away (Drink my troubles away) [Verse 2 - Young Chris] I talk that sh**, yes I do You know my wrist is sky blue Married the block said I do Time to celebrate with my crew Seven deep so the Cadillacs, gotta take about two Yellow caution the block Make sure they tape ‘em out too Any dealings we making my n***as waiting out too No ain't no need for no rushing Let's count that paper out too Chillin down in Miami, b**hes f** on the yacht You n***as stuck on my instagram pictures, up on the block Mad as f** I can tell, greenest stuff on some shelf But if I hit ‘em them pussies, I know the s**ers would tell I'm a menace out here, I'm a product of blocks And the hate don't amount, I gets alot of that guap Nice resort on the hills, quarter mill for the wheel You keep on holla at choppers you better get you some shield I'm a problem I promise, vacate down in the Thomas Smoking down in the islands my money growing, empower [Hook] [Verse 3 - Lloyd Banks) I used to dream of these profits Same time they feenin to cop it My presence big as a building I put your team in my pocket I'ma bong your wife She takes my semen and swap it Them vixens come with a victor I'm like a king on that topic I do this everywhere In/out the town, the P's and the tropics We leave a mess and go Chocolate and whip cream when I popped it I stick my chest out to the rift Soon as you catch up, they switch Chrome and metal burn rubber I wood grained decked up the 6 f** you hatin a** n***as And you hatin a** hoes We ain't in the same bracket So don't debate on our flows ‘Cause I'm so motherf**ing high I can touch the sky You have just been outshined By someone that doesn't try I'm getting red I ain't got to lift a leg Lift a thumb 20k in ones make the strippers beg Fly, I have to go last, let us see all you n***as dead Torn is for the lessons, count my blessings before I hit the bed [Hook]