Song Lyrics

"The City"

by Propaganda
Album: Art Ambidextrous

They say the city sings a song. And you can't help to sing along. And I be looking in their eyAnnotatees like
"I'm sorry you're dead wrong
He came from birth sinning and very meager beginnings
Where all we had was spam, and an interceding grandma
Tried to read the word but didn't understand the grammar. 'Till his grace came and gave me a new brain
You cannot tell me that poverty, is bigger than sovereignty. We lived in he same projects as you
Lived right next to you, dodged the same bullets, even spent time in the "burbs"
That's my word

When you born off Alondra with drugs and money launderers
Now a husband and father is proof that a God loves you
We chose not to slang and that gave me much more bravery then them OG's would ever give me credit for
The road was so lonely, we had God only
And fools owuld creep by slowly like "what up homie!"
But steady wins the race, Open your ears, ya'll been hustling for years it sound like you're grinding gears!
Stripping up your clutch and ironically its automatic
I'mma literally drive by your drive by's

You are NOT your hood homie. It did not make you
Look, we are proof you don't have to conform
The road was so lonely but you cannot tell me its impossible to exit that mash pit scar-less

You don't have to sing along
She came from birth sinning and very meager beginnings where shared a bed with her sister 'till 18
First out of high school, first out of college, childhood with a nightmare, somehow she got outta there
A simple girl, beautiful complex her compexion is quite similar to Incan or Mayan
Her speaking reminds me of my time is east Los
A refomred Chola Loca
Working on her PhD, like "You think I'm plain'! Man I'm from HP homie, by way of Acapulco!"
It would crush someone lesser, elementary school of of Fir and Manchester thank God he blessed her

You are NOT your hood homie. It did not make you
Look, we are proof you don't have to conform
That road was so lonely but you cannot tell me its impossible to exit that mash pit scar-less


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