Lyrics:
Stay gold... stay gold...
Yeah... mmm...
It's all gold... it's all gold... it's all gold... it's all gold...
It's all gold
If you're tired
way
I'm a do it my way, do it do it my way
Give a damn what a hater gotta say
I rep my city, rep my city
Rep my city, rep my city
Rep my city, rep
hair with broads and crews
Bitches searching for the gold
But i'm still outside posted in the cold
Life is up and down
Grab you by the throat
Money
Won't sell my gold, still own my soul
My phone still on
I'm trapping again
Back in the streets, hoe I never give in
Run through yo' city die tryna get
questioned like is he really real
Dc my Jerusalem ima give it that city feel
For real niggaz only still
That same ol gritty ill
LAX liquor parking lot you
Gold all in my pocket
They say the truth is so bitter
I drank me a whole bottle
Still i ain't spit it out
I have been rapping and trapping
A studio
blood still works
His blood still works
O He went on the cross just for me
You see you didn't have to do it Lord
You didn't have to do it Lord
But I
these chances
Streets helped me race to go and change my circumstances
Straight from the city, we done took it 'cross the planet
I'm guessin' that's
the mention,
Passing paths that climb halfway into the void.
As we cross from side to side, we hear the total mass retain.
Down at the edge, round by
and I just popped 3 pills
I don't know which one's which or what it's for
Safety ain't really a habit I've formed
I still smoke to the cigarette butt
There's always blood stains over
Gold and Diamonds
Thirst by natural wealth
World's bloody conflict
Since world war two
Still rumbling on this day
Where I'm
I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm
I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm
in my pocket and at least a grand
Gold on my knuckle, my pistol's closed in hand
I'm a Dogg Pound Gangsta from the LBC
Remotely controlled by
on the throne
I'd stop this mess and
Just need to think about it
I ain't going to Sun City
If-if somehow by the South African government
Sun City is described
On North Claiborne
They had big oak trees
(Gentrifying the city)
In the black neighborhood
That's where the
Indians meet
(Gentrifying the city)
They tore it
Vertical at night
My imagination
Reaches to forever
Like an endless tower
Vertical I write
So high and still it sends a feeling through me
Suddenly
Cause I don't stunt a gold cross like I Christian Bale
Yeah, they starin' at me jealous cause I do shows bigger
But your looks don't help, like an old
to the electric chair with Jesus, still in it
You gaze upon the cross, and you see the execution
You yell stop the violence but the cross you're still using
with its joyous sound
You won't be wont to recount your woes
When your portfolios hold more gold than you can count!
Just twelve easy steps and you'll be
the lamb lay down His life
To lift us from the fall
Mighty is the power of the cross
It's a miracle to me
It's a miracle to me
And it's still
and screaming out crips
800 is the block, the burgh is the city
It's still project bitch if you want to get with it
to this city
I still remember when Kobe got us the 3-peat
He gave it all to the city, shooting free throws after the Achilles
Yeah, you know we do it for
The whole city
I'm still here lookin' through the window
Watchin' the days go by
Watchin' the sun rise
Why don't you try?
Ah-ha-ah-ha
Ah-ha
I'm
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