City 2 City by Jay Furr Lyrics
[Intro: Jay Furr]
(You got this beat from Ant)
Yeah, yeah
Let's go
Yeah
Yeah
[Chorus: Jay Furr]
Ayy, ooh, city to city, bitch, I'm countin' racks up
These niggas bitches, I know that they cap up
I'm in the back smokin' dope, countin' racks up
Big ass Glock make a fuck nigga 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 shit, 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 bitches, yeah, he is dramatic
And if it's some tension, we gon' let you have it
Pull up with that fuck shit, we want all the static
Bitch, this is a Rollie, bitch, this not a Patek
That lil' nigga broke, that shit must be tragic
Bitch, 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, bitch, is you serious?
Exotic cars like Fast and the Furious
Bitch, we ain't friendly, get killed 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 killin' 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 kill 'em, so ain't no comparison (Know I'ma kill 'em)
I'm on that 'Lato ('Lato, bitch)
Higher than a motherfucker (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 bitch in Celine (Yeah)
I just poured a whole pint, spent a ticket on lean (Yeah)
I be Prada steppin', niggas knowin' I'm clean
And these bitches fuckin', so these niggas 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, bitch, I'm countin' racks up
These niggas bitches, I know that they cap up
I'm in the back smokin' dope, countin' racks up
Big ass Glock make a fuck nigga 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
(You got this beat from Ant)
Yeah, yeah
Let's go
Yeah
Yeah
[Chorus: Jay Furr]
Ayy, ooh, city to city, bitch, I'm countin' racks up
These niggas bitches, I know that they cap up
I'm in the back smokin' dope, countin' racks up
Big ass Glock make a fuck nigga 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 shit, 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 bitches, yeah, he is dramatic
And if it's some tension, we gon' let you have it
Pull up with that fuck shit, we want all the static
Bitch, this is a Rollie, bitch, this not a Patek
That lil' nigga broke, that shit must be tragic
Bitch, 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, bitch, is you serious?
Exotic cars like Fast and the Furious
Bitch, we ain't friendly, get killed 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 killin' 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 kill 'em, so ain't no comparison (Know I'ma kill 'em)
I'm on that 'Lato ('Lato, bitch)
Higher than a motherfucker (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 bitch in Celine (Yeah)
I just poured a whole pint, spent a ticket on lean (Yeah)
I be Prada steppin', niggas knowin' I'm clean
And these bitches fuckin', so these niggas 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, bitch, I'm countin' racks up
These niggas bitches, I know that they cap up
I'm in the back smokin' dope, countin' racks up
Big ass Glock make a fuck nigga 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