100 Chicagos

Shit, yeah, uh-huh

Yeah, uh, uh, uh

Yeah, uh

My dome golden

My heart bleed Madison and Homan

Yeah, back to Madison and Kedzie

Madison and Albany, we right back into home again

Where them dwellings wasn't buildings

Intelligent ain't skilled until the fellas got the felons in they feelings

Yelling to the ceiling

Scale again, the pelicans is skeletons and villains

Oh no, no, I'm just rolling, I can't even flee

When I see old money, old money

Veterans and millions, elegant and brilliant

Ain't no food and liquor three, we on that medicine and killing

Off top, free Chill, yeah, uh

Generating Zen with some nice sword practice

Rest In Peace Virg', LV, it's Vice Lord backwards

A simple flip of the monogram

That ain't shit, I had similes on my sonogram, my momma's man

Before I was born, I was doing reconnaissance

My barber taught me how to chop a nigga with my chopper hand

Not at all prophetic

Just chauffeurs in Allah's Lexus

The realest nigga alive, no prosthetics or cosmetics

Might catch the Holy Ghost and start speaking in Nas records

Hah, hah, hah, said he came through the town

Had the flames on his crown, the youth was all excited

And Memphis drooped his whole fuckin' name into the ground like

Gangsta Boo, what up?

Yeah, hah, yeah, yeah, yeah

That's this, what if rap had a blacksmith?

The day you catch me lack

Is the day Farrakhan eats catfish as a Catholic

Reporting live from the blacklist

Accustomed to being this bad 'cause he packed it

But if they ask, that ain't my bag 'cause I traffic

See the lights from the O spark

Feeling like Austin meets Oak Park

A hundred Chicagos, they want no parts

He at the MCA yelling, "Go, Art!"

At the strip club with his eyes closed and throat parched

Westside with my whole heart, heart

Westside with my whole heart

Westside, ooh