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    METHOD MAN

    Blackout! 2 2009 ©

    City Lights

    I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights
    Tore up every city, I get tore up under city lights
    I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights
    Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights


    Yo, I'm rolling in my ride, my eyes real chinky
    Hit 145, buy like 12 twinkies
    Today a good day, I know, don't jinx it
    I 'will' keep a 'smith', just like Jada Pinkett
    Baby, without blinking, I do it my way
    I shit on folks, the opposite of R. K.
    I'm rude, pardon me, I'm too hood
    Doc on your mind all the time, like New E.R.A.
    Who am I? That nigga too fly
    My mama gave birth on Continental Airlines
    I ain't lying, I'm back, boy, you hit the backboard
    I'm all swish, make a memo on your black board
    This class here, nigga, is for the underground
    UGK, Doc and Meth, locking the summer down
    And I ain't playing games, homey, so get it right
    Cuz I 'get tore, I get tore up' under city lights




    I dropped to 95, now I'm on 95
    South and the dirty been riding dirty since Dirty died
    I gets it early, my nigga, heard me, I'm certified
    And when I ride, I'm with Reggie Noble, New Jersey Drive
    I make it happen, homey, I take you back when I was wearing ponies
    And them older niggas was snapping on me
    How many rappers know me? I know what cash own
    Face it, this game I take it, in holy matrimony
    And now can't nothing hold me, I fucks with UGK
    Some dudes is more like Kobe, I'm more like Rudy Ray
    You either in it pimping, or you just in the way
    I love this life that I'm living, your shit can end today
    Two things to know about me, I guess I'll never change
    And keep this money like Southern Cali, and never rain
    And I ain't playing games wit ya, so get it right
    And I 'get tore, I get tore up' under city lights




    For the king of the trill is up in this bitch
    Drop the top, but I get the switch
    You see my level, he tuck the stitch
    Texas, nigga, we getting rich
    Fuck a hater, man, fuck a snitch
    G-Code nigga, we don't love the po-po
    No more swag, now pass the dough dough
    We keep it super tight like pants in SoHo
    I'm bout my dough, ho, so don't play with my bread
    Man, I be trying to stop the violence nowadays so it's dead
    I'm popping that trunk and grabbing that chopper, putting that K to ya head
    I'd rather be laying up in the bed with your baby and may getting head
    Yeah, my Cadillac car is candy painted, dripping like Bernadette
    My steering wheel is woodgrain, I grip it and turn it quick
    I'm riding bowls, black with yellow stripes, like a Steeler
    And as far as the rims go, I'm an 84 dealer
    A smile peeler when I mash out in the Cady
    Lean it back up on the leather, man, and smoking on a fatty
    This UGK 4 Life, if you ain't know you better get it right
    Why, 'I get tore, I get tore up' under city lights


    UGK, Redman, Method Man, in the fucking building, bitch

    2009 ©




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METHOD MAN City Lights lyrics 96976 songs