BIG SHUG

BIG SHUG - My Boston lyrics

rate me

Yeah, we got it poppin right now, Boston baby

This is my town

Ah ha

I got some peeps with me though

My man Singapore Kane, Termanology

Ah ha

We goin' in right now,

Hold it down for Boston baby, it's our time right now,

We ain't got next, we got now

You feel me?

Boston, it's what it is,

Ah ha, yea, here we go...

It's not the NBA, we don't jump in the air and bump

It's around the way, where cats jump outta the car and pump

Boston: where some cats, guns are props

Some pop, some end up in the morgue shop

From Blue Hill Ave, to Talbot Ave, to Derby Park

I pushed the whips, made my money, and got my start

Norfolk Park is where I drop the De la Soul

Boston: outta control, death toll

We got cops on foot, and bike patrol

It's been the same way since I was eight years old

Racism: we beat that back

I seen the whole world, but I still keep comin back

I love my town, not for Paul Revere

But for Big Shug's legend and Murderpan Square

Just on stage, as a gangster or survivor, I rep for Boston, and it gets no live-r

Damn!

Yo, think of Boston I think of racists, Charles Stuart cases

Crooked Jakes shine flashlights in our faces

Home of the Red Sox, Celtics, and the Patriots

And crash dummy kids with guns ready to spray shit

Every city's the same shit, no matter the size

Anywhere the population is poor, then you got crimes

Some dudes be doin' crimes, some dudes be doin' rhymes

Salut, my dawgs in the System doin' their time

What - you think 'cause we got Harvard,

Boston niggas don't be robbin', mobbin' when we starvin'?

Smoke blunts like red or black in the Garden,

We'll see who's hard, when you're confronted by my squadron

Talk on and on 'bout your million gats, but if you're pussy

We'll skin you like Brazilian Wax

A lotta cats die flossin',

Bitches shed tears for years, 'cause you got Paul Pierce in My Boston

Chyea, it's the L-A-W-T-O-W-N, Law-town, niggas done it again

Let me tell you 'bout my city,

It's wil' gritty, I got a hundred and fifty spics that ride with me

Wanna know 'bout crooked cops livin' in Boston?

Hit the block, bust a homie, cop the departed,

You can learn about my Bean in Hi-D, these sirens in my dreams,

It's a wild scene

Mamas in the street pick up their son, like "Why me? "

No ID, the boy got stuck like IVs,

Throw my threes, these wild streets, can't retire me,

On my beats, they all bang, like I signed with Preem {DJ Premier}

Legendary like, Paul Pierce, in the wheelchair

Lotta cats hatin' on me, but I'm still here

From Hell-town, back to Mattapan Square,

Beware!

What a wonderful place to live...

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