City of dope de Too $hort

City of dope, i call it oak
can't be broke, selling coke
fat ropes, shattered hopes
fresh cars and all that dope
baseheads keep the trade alive
nobody know about a 9 to 5
everybody's just trying to survive
you need a gun, can't use those knives
you got a bullet? well just pull it
and if you trip, get pistol-whipped
by a psychomaniac sick in his head
wanna be a gangster, now he's dead
his brother took over, ain't no sweat
bought a new drop-top white corvette
now he's buying keys, making g's
and all the girls say "won't you please
take me" in the city of dope
See i'm hard as hell, no ghetto tale
you play a gun, but the game is real
you want to stop my money, how?
you keep smoking, i'm selling out
it's called the city of dope, might be your town
get a piece of the rock, turn your life around
so cool, don't even trip
you got the sack, get on the tip
a resident in the city of dope
and every day i'm selling coke
i'm never broke, i don't smoke
i sold a rock and made you have a stroke
pay cold cash you know, i won't need bruno
i'll hit you with my gat and then i won't come back
like ym peanut butter top with the candy paint
all the high school tenders drop down and faint
in the city of dope
Life in a coke town, heard it before
think it's all been said, but it's so much more
it's like midnight, slanging rock
task force just hit the block
time to make a move, the spot got hot
you chase a cop, homeboy why not?
she lit the match and light the crack
ain't giving no bitches no kind of slack
or if you're playing the game, you're thinking the same
goddamn that rock cocaine
i've seen a lot of my friends go off that pipe
and every night smoke coke that's white
so when you get up, man, there you go
you and that pipe just dogging the hoes
in the city of dope, and the story goes
want to be like free, breaking millions of loaves
in the city of dope, where the color is gold
on your neck, and your fingers, and your brand new rolls
enough said, but my rap won't end
it's on a one way trip to san quinten
like you my friend, ain't nothing new
you want to grind that boat til it's way past two
you say it's not easy, that you're so hard
sporting gold tone z's, not credit cards
got clout turn 'em out, you got bitches
you say you're not fake, but i'm telling you this is
the city of dope, might be your world
get a beeper homeboy and just sell that girl
i'm from the town called "the city of dope"
it couldn't be saved by john the pope
so go on, live your life of crime
the beat'll keep beating while i say my rhyme
in the city of dope
Smoking weed, rolling 'em fat
you wonder where the boy learned to act like that
hey was raised in the ghetto and felt the need
to roll a fat joint and smoke that weed
but the tale goes on and years went by
another drug came and the boy got high
ever since that day, he just wasn't the same
where i come from, we call it "rock cocaine"
where you come from, you might call it "crack"
but wherever he went, you see he never came back
i tried to tell the motherfucker, but he don't know
i say to coke, "pimp that ho"
i don't live in a mansion but i drive a benz
cut to the turf and collect my ends
say "look here freak, kick me down
i don't have time to talk right now"
got to go to, my next hoe
and get kicked down, a little more
left right left, down the street
getting paid freak by freak
there you see me, there you don't
you wonder will i, or won't
is it yes, is it no?
but does it really matter you freaky hoe?
in the city of dope