D.C. figure

D.C., are you with me.

D.C., are you with me

D C. Are you with me.

D.C. are you with me.

I was born in a place.

A city of hate.

Where one mistake.

Could be a last situation,

I'd have to face. Throughout my days.

And the wonder why young. I live hard

Cause that's the way,

I was taught to ride son.

In the streets of D C.

Get the picture.

It wasn't easy.

What can I say.

I'm just a person,

From around the way.

Where people, don't play.

But get things done, with gun play.

And I can remember.

When I was young.

I'd never thought, I'd see someone.

Getting shot once or twice

But I did many times I'm my life.

And it's still cold as ice,

In my hood.

Where nobody cares, about

People laying in blood.

So don't get it misunderstood, about, where I'm from. D. C. Homie!!!!

You know the rest young.

It's a place.

Where your outcome, could be your

Death young.

So watch your step young,

Or come correct young.

Cause folks be, pulling weapons.

Tripping off the ill.

Staying wetin their brain cells.

In these streets.

I've seen many sales drugs

And come out with a story to tell.

I was hanging around some O.G's, and they told me to be a soldier,

Or get punked slowly.

By a gang of figures

Bring that thang to figures

Talk that slang to sisters, put it in the game,

On niggers.

Just to let them know.

So they can get a little picture.

I was born in a place.

I was born in a place.

D.C figure