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City Of Dreams (ft. Freddy Wycheck)
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lv lveracity elvee caleema
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Started rapping about September 2004, but I'd been writing poetry for years and done text battles on rap boards once in a while. My content is far from what most females "in the game" speak on, I don't talk about Gucci and Prada, or sex all the time. I keep it real and talk about issues that are on my mind. Things that are going on in "MY" life or the lives of people I know. To me, it's all about keeping it REAL and elevating so that you can be at your best and I believe I'm well on my way to doing both.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Positive Vibes
Charts
Peak #1,295
Peak in subgenre #55
Author
L Veracity
Uploaded
November 28, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 4:00
Lyrics
made for the big city, but the city made me and this here’s my reality, not talking TV see everything’s a game, when your life’s without an aim with each generation going in circles, it’s all the same different corner, same drug…different boy, same story why you doing what you does? “pops wasn’t there for me” these irresponsible mothers and absentee fathers children raising children, we don’t care enough to bother war, but not public education is addressed all these welfare kids are just statistics to asses no food on the table, that’s what I call stress but new shoes on your feet, tell me how’s it make sense? pair of jeans and a T-shirt cost more than your rent common sense is something that you managed to circumvent living lavish in the ‘hood, you a “gutta” muh FUCKah? but to keep up with the Jones’ you destroying your “brothers” in a city of dreams, life moving at light speed take a look at any scene, there's always a hidden scheme it's hard to grab the cash, hustle hard to keep on track gotta fend for yourself, ‘cause nobody got your back and some people risk it all for those "dead presidents" say if it "don't make dollars" then it "don't make sense" they getting 'hood respect for doing them 'hood things but just another lost soul in a city of dreams 12 years old with his family and friends then the sound of gun shots, about 8 to 10 he looked over his shoulder then he’s down on his knees with his face to the grass and he’s tryin’ hard to breathe blood soaked shirt layin’ next to empty shells so they thinkin’ that he’s dead and everybody starts to yell the car zoomed by, black paint up on the plates another innocent victim of the retaliated hate when the coroners arrive, little Marc’s still alive but slowly slipping away so he’s gotta be revived paramedics try to shake him, but he can’t respond back try to keep contact, but his eyes roll back metal pads on his chest, shock once, shock twice repeatin’ the actions, but they wouldn’t suffice another young one dies caught in another’s demise and all that’s left to hear are his family’s haunting cries
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