lirik lagu my city is gross – poetic mind
[verse one: pm]
i’m from piqua & my city is gross
it’s full of pills & gangsters with pretty clothes
bills overcharge finances to the cities folks
committee votes but it’s only for a pity growth
the higher dictated the houses vacated
prior donations the mouses locate it
half the population lacking actions taken
if you’re asian they assume your contagious
city full of drug dealers banking off plug stealers
now they meet the reaper which causing em’ seizures
they go to cashland taking from they stash hand
just to make some grass man
now they straight from the trash cans
a city slogan where vision becomes reality
but i’d rather dream then live in real agony
it’s sad to see, these casualties, but casually
they actually, just naturally a fallacy
the school system here is factually worse
teachin’ fool wisdom but doesn’t actually work
they’ll preach rules, not how reality works
they just leech tools like it’s valid read, jerks
[hook]
i treat every verse like a booth when i spill thought
i beat every verse spitting truth this is real talk
[verse two: pm]
the cops busting down on the town for a one/eighth
on the media they clowns said it was a ton of weight
ovi up on the job but d.a.r.e he run away
he took to many shots sir, please put the gun away
a bunch of keyboard warriors who like to cap on lock
they really must be bored when they yap & they mock
they complain about the garbage i call them local artist
my words are the seeds & i’m starting vocal harvest
solar panels more optimistic then the people here
panels closer to the light when the sun appears
throughout the years construct construction tiers
and if you cough everybody they run in fear
mind controlled by the media half the the town is fearin, yuh
buying all the rolled toilet paper who’s greedier?
everybody selfish they just want to sell it
just to get a sales pitch when they just resell it
this city boring & ladies popin’ out the babies
now the populations souring on a daily
everybody h*rny & don’t want to use protection
everybody ornery until they see their reflection
[hook]
i treat every verse like a booth when i spill thought
i beat every verse spitting truth this is real talk
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