Lute Queen City Slummin Lyrics
Queen City Slummin' by Lute
[Verse 1: Lute]
They want me to wile out
Instead I styled out, like 3 Stacks
Stashed three stacks, told my girl I'll be right back
Who be in that when shit pull up and tints all black
Open doors, rolls gold around his wrist and his neck
What's 'round his wrists is respect
Homies grippin' the TEC
'Cause when you iced out you can't talk to strangers
That's probably why he walk with bangers
Because those who loyal to the game become royal to the game
Don't be surprised when your niggas start actin' like strangers
So, he rides supreme, cocked to the side looking famous
Chain dangling, girls asking what my Twitter name is
Hardly tweet but holla at me in your @ mentions
See this music is real
Kill beats like I ain't used to a deal
We eat tracks like we ain't used to a meal
West Side till I die boy, that's just how it is
The city birthed me, only right that I raise my brother
Why hate, I got faith in my brothers
For God's sake, show love for yo motherfuckin' brother
'Cause them boys makin' noise like Horton Hears a Who!
Real niggas I salute, pussy niggas never shoot
Pistol in my coupe, try my troops, watch 'em leap
Like Ivan Ooze, knock a nigga out here's cool
For some proof over his grave where he lay
Six feet underneath, watch him sleep
Another brother victim of them streets
Rest in peace
[Verse 2: Ry]
Kicking raps so sick
Leave these present niggas past tense
Foes in that twenty ounce, got a nigga past bent
On that penny pack purp, same color half cents
Pocket full of dead guys, my denim got the sixth sense
Money money money, you broke niggas funny
It's niggas on the grind while you outchea chillin'
On the road to a million, strapped up, no cheering
Smoking out the 'lac packs, thinking like some chitlins
Yankee boy on some country shit, stoned on some munchie shit
Banana be the clips for the fronters on some monkey shit
Igniting like my blunt lit
Spitting like a full clip
Toss me on the track boy, I bet you get your beat ripped
[Outro: Lute]
Slummin' on the west side of the 7-0
He slapped five out the fo' just to let him know
North clickity clack and back shortie let it go
Watch the paper fold
Watch these niggas imitate the flow
I'm slummin' on the west side of the 7-0
He slapped five out the fo' just to let him know
North clickity clack and back, shortie, let it go
Watch the paper fold
Watch these niggas imitate the flow
They want me to wile out
Instead I styled out, like 3 Stacks
Stashed three stacks, told my girl I'll be right back
Who be in that when shit pull up and tints all black
Open doors, rolls gold around his wrist and his neck
What's 'round his wrists is respect
Homies grippin' the TEC
'Cause when you iced out you can't talk to strangers
That's probably why he walk with bangers
Because those who loyal to the game become royal to the game
Don't be surprised when your niggas start actin' like strangers
So, he rides supreme, cocked to the side looking famous
Chain dangling, girls asking what my Twitter name is
Hardly tweet but holla at me in your @ mentions
See this music is real
Kill beats like I ain't used to a deal
We eat tracks like we ain't used to a meal
West Side till I die boy, that's just how it is
The city birthed me, only right that I raise my brother
Why hate, I got faith in my brothers
For God's sake, show love for yo motherfuckin' brother
'Cause them boys makin' noise like Horton Hears a Who!
Real niggas I salute, pussy niggas never shoot
Pistol in my coupe, try my troops, watch 'em leap
Like Ivan Ooze, knock a nigga out here's cool
For some proof over his grave where he lay
Six feet underneath, watch him sleep
Another brother victim of them streets
Rest in peace
[Verse 2: Ry]
Kicking raps so sick
Leave these present niggas past tense
Foes in that twenty ounce, got a nigga past bent
On that penny pack purp, same color half cents
Pocket full of dead guys, my denim got the sixth sense
Money money money, you broke niggas funny
It's niggas on the grind while you outchea chillin'
On the road to a million, strapped up, no cheering
Smoking out the 'lac packs, thinking like some chitlins
Yankee boy on some country shit, stoned on some munchie shit
Banana be the clips for the fronters on some monkey shit
Igniting like my blunt lit
Spitting like a full clip
Toss me on the track boy, I bet you get your beat ripped
[Outro: Lute]
Slummin' on the west side of the 7-0
He slapped five out the fo' just to let him know
North clickity clack and back shortie let it go
Watch the paper fold
Watch these niggas imitate the flow
I'm slummin' on the west side of the 7-0
He slapped five out the fo' just to let him know
North clickity clack and back, shortie, let it go
Watch the paper fold
Watch these niggas imitate the flow