Songtext Letter to the city 2 Tory Lanez

Letter to the city 2

C-Sick

Uh
Soon as you hear this verse, I'm out the record deal
And she did twelve albums, four years, and that's a record still
Hand to the sky like Emmett Till off the steppin' wheel
And minus all the'sex?appeal,?your boy aboutàto flex for'real
Rolls-Royce coloured in four-doors 'cause my son in it
I'm drivin' down the garden, uh, Toronto, home city
With two tings that I partied up, playin' party and possum
Then I puff with my girls like Buttercup with a Blossom
Excessive needs for pussy, power, and SUVs
They drop us to the back door entrance, just stress relief
Ain't no less, indeed, shooters is pressin' like refugees
And the fee at the entrance way too high just to let 'em free
What can't alarm me is whose crew's finna harm me
My little dudes move like new recruits in the army
And all they see is food: shrimps, scallops, and calamari
I gallivant at a Barbie while they got the back at your party
Uh, select the women, I fuck raw and unprotected
Like fuck if you get pregnant, I'll keep it
Keep it secret, only in town for a week, and I'm
Datin' women on, I'm cheatin' for foreign reason, and
Fuck y'all niggas throwin' y'all beef and I'm goin' vegan with Heaven's timin'
Shootin' that set, designin' that movie like I sold ten million records in record timin'
I did, and I kept on climbin'
I started at ninety, I render, plays and private agendas
Tryna get fly, but niggas tried and I kindly reject 'em
They ran my name through the mud, but I'm finally respected
This here out of the plan, this more of a God purpose
This here out of my hands, this'll never feel like 2012
Singin' to Sean Kingston for clout and advance
I'm still proud of that man, though I fell out from his hands
He didn't do me worse than — and all of his friends
Them niggas is out of this world, they came out of the sand
I'm still 'bout it, my mans
Thought this shit was mad love 'til I see my album advance
They took radio from me, I stay proud of my stance
I kept slappin' the world with hits like I powdered my hands
I would've been ten times bigger if — wasn't bein' bitter and doubtin' my chance
Threatenin' to shelf my whole career for five years
As if you wasn't takin' money from my out my advance
I got out by chance
Them nights was like the Super Bowl, watchin' out from the stands
God don't make things happen by chance
And it's some things you gon' have to experience
I dappin' up the border officer passin' the clearance
He always makes a corny joke 'bout my rapper appearance
Then I do a fake laugh that he catches like pass interference
I fly back into Paris
Blunt smoke ash on my terrace
My competition just a empty ass class full of chairs
Talkin' to myself is lonely, minus the fact that I'm here
I'm tryna see all of my niggas blossom
Mariah sellin' shows, Coachella her first year
And minus all the times we disagree, I'm still here
Pierre, Papi Yerr 'bout to be a whole millionaire
Davo comin' out the cut with a chick with Sicilian hair
Mansa is droppin' next month, you niggas should be in fear
Watchin' Melii do the numbers like she runnin' track and field
Plus we just got Cass in here
And this whole Umbrella army on full attack mode, for real
New Toronto 3, I'll leave it at that
And ain't nobody fuckin' with me, folk, I'll keep it at that
Yeah, the next move is goin' fully independent
And any label offer under hundred mill' is just offensive
I promise