This Is Killadelphia

Do you want all those dudes hangin' in front of ya momma's crib? Keep yo' churrin' off the streets and away from where the big boys fib I'm the king of hardcore and deserve a whole lot of respect My girls got a badonkadonk butt, it's so ballerific, it's what I expect I told her to stay the hell away from my precious new hooptie She tried to give me the third, but I just waved the no finger and popped her booty Pimpin' aren't easy man, it's just that I've got that pimp juice, all the girls be wanting Art lovin' Landis, was the best damn scratcher & foolin' all the museum high pillows The women from the hood, come work for me, b'coz they're all the ghettos widows The jury couldn't charge him, but the so called art experts keep up their taunting Some have so much ice on their hands, I could do a figure eight on my skates If he would only paint his own, he would truly be one of this centuries greats They told me if I don't pay, they're gonna pop a cap in my RRSS Man, I am RRSS out this month. I ain't got no kinda funds, I be on the nut, like glass These streets are crazy out here, it's just the way, it's the nature of the street While the popos and bulls are dancin' like great white sharks Barbering to us and cuttin' us no slack, be real with me son, damn narcs But we don't like to look like a punk in front of our boys, that'll be defeat Gangsta’s killing cats for real, all over the hood, where they don't belong Damn your pimp juice, your game is too strong He's the drug lord out here, the big boss dog The rest of his crew are little more than corner boys We are the ultimate big tymers, me and my son, cruisin' in da fog My boo be real and we be ballin-outta control with our toys The cars windows were so dark, I could've got shot by a gun All the backstreet junkies now payin' for the big guns on the run We just heard Boom Boom Boom, we know not to bother Is he a relative? Yeah man, it's her dead brother We don't see anything, it's the hoods mentality Everybody's a curb side lawyer, but when we go to court, we lose that ability Man, that chickenhead was booey, I want my 50 bucks back Chickenheads will always be on the prowl for some easy berry stack A thug is a way of life, made bad choices, now tryin' to survive This is Philadelphia, where we won't & don't shake hands to the jive Last year we were also known as Killadelphia So go home, breeze and call it a night, without no fear.