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Artiste : Tory Lanez
Titre : Letter to the City 2
C-Sick

Uh
Soon as you hear this verse, I´m out the record deal

They cheated 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 about to flex for real
Rolls-Royce Cullinan, four-doors ´cause my son in it
I´m drivin´ down the garden to Toronto, home city
With two tings that I partnered up, playin´ putter and possum
Then I puff with my girls like Buttercup with a Blossom
Excessive needs for pussy, power, and SUVs
That drop us to the back-door entrances, stress relief
And no less, indeed, the shooters is pressin´ like refugees

And the fee at the entranceway 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 gather back at your party
Uh, should let the women I fuck raw and unprotected
Like, fuck, if you get pregnant, I´ll keep it
Keep a secret, only in town for a week, and I´m
Datin´ women knowin´ I´m cheatin´ for foreign reasonin´
Fuck y´all niggas throwin´ y´all beef in, I´m goin´ vegan with Heaven´s timin´
Shootin´ and set designin´, they´re movin´ like I sold ten million records in record timin´

I did, then 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
Signin´ to Sean Kingston for clout and advance
I´m still proud of that man, know I fell out from his hands
He didn´t do me worse than — and all of his friends
Them niggas out of this world, they came out of the sands

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 stayed 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 he wasn´t takin´ money from 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´m 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´s just a empty-ass class full of chairs
Talkin´ to myself, it´s 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 droppin´ next month, you niggas should be in fear

Watchin´ Melii do the numbers like she runnin´ track and field
Plus we just got Kaash in here
And it´s all 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