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lirik lagu big city – language arts crew

[intro: sample from [?]]
rules? hmm. there aren’t many rules. you fight mean, you win mean. takes a special, sure man

[hook 1: clint westwood]
where’s a big city for the citizens amidst the village?
h-ll feelings, drug dealing plus spilling and k!lling
one in a million struggling to rip a living
cops have risen and civilians box for pots to p-ss in
herds of servants hurrying to work insurgent
well below the curtain ‘cause the surface is a world of burden
america is hysteria now
we underground when your town comes crumbling down

[verse 1: clint westwood]
welcome to san jose, the land of average days
unanimous race, slanderous hate, shattered gl-ss, and hazardous waste
leatherface, [transit is where i?] scare all those candy kids
hand in hand, will that every bandit’s? inhale the ambience
attacking the jack in the box, smack [molars?]. the crack corner
where you get stabbed in the back with a plastic fork for a quarter
thought of us getting short orders that might have already swarmed the authorities
in a storm of wh0r-s over lost ford explorers and 40s
city of toxicity, the armpit of the valley
where trickling p-ss streams of vomit seep from every alley
foul streets, malfunctioning, drunk brethren
land of the neverending 7-eleven living dead veterans
yo, the highest cost of living while the citizens stay jobless
microscopic silicon stock hits double the profits out of my pockets
[?] sock you in the jaw before he warns ya
in this cultureless mortuary called northern california

[verse 2: vric enoh]
amongst a hectic city, hard to lift your head when heavy pressure
fills the chest inside the mind and moves like water levee
on the verge of bursting open, throw your raft, invite the weather
head on the end of the road but flips to scream like a game of tether
i’m making extra quickly. i’ve been morbid out the chaos
staying lost in desolation, making the moves and got the day off
taking the time to gather thoughts and jot them down onto the paper
without a breath, i’m unique thoughts, a taxi cabber, island vapor

[verse 3: benny medicina]
it’s the life of the lights. can’t rocket profits? then die to the price
vipers as they strike get your ankles and bite you in stride
there’s p-ss in alley corners in every alley in california
we’ll bet our born matadors with metaphors to rattle on ya
it’s the man of [?], stainless pen department
cannabis-sparking. [i get so?] plastic, mannequin targets
[soul stamped with us surging?] and salute arm to the loser
i beg your pardon. i’m carving the future like the marchmen of luther
you far from the truth, truly trendy and trampled on
atom bombs that trap the p-ss of panama and flood the land abroad
-n-log electricity’s toilet—don’t flow through your cordless
put your word out of orbit, understand we will torch the fortress

[verse 4: qs zeus]
yo, it’s a fortunate [list?]. force distorted portraits
remorseless, the city will force kids from the orphanage
this origin’s older than roman soldiers in auditoriums
all these territories from [?] to oregon
but hold that tone
n0body gonna get ya if you’re quiet. the gate is all i’ve roamed
so take it if you want to get to nowhere
a ticket if you want to ride. a trick lie be “why ever go there?”
this cold air—smooth your pant ruffs or move to florida
this forest of weed exported to hold all of the flow in us
never thought i’d get involved with grips
i’m just dot up on the clover ‘til it falls and splits, so, um

[hook 2: qs zeus]
what am i supposed to do ‘bout all this?
the earth quakes but it seems so faultless
i make a stand but i fall in p-ss
and all the kids will evolve to this
come check it out
what am i supposed to do ‘bout all this?
the earth quakes but it seems so faultless
i make a stand but i fall in p-ss
and all the kids will evolve to this
yo. uh

- language arts crew

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