Detroit State of Mind - eLZhi

It’s Elmatic

Yeah, I’mma start this shit off, man

Yo, rappers I monkey-flip 'em, gorilla-stomp 'em

I’m out here with the dealers pumpin', the killers dumpin'

Dead bodies in Lake Michigan that shake fishermen

Pimps turn into pastors, the fake bishops in the churches

And props determined off what you purchase

Or who you murked just a week ago, dug up from searches

And police raids, decreased grades;

someone deceased made

The front page, the priests prayed he went to heaven, but the beast stayed

Now it’s a war, and flowers for more funerals

You see who’s soon to go a few hours before

It’s just the same story, they cutting more ki’s

When someone OD’s in the same building on the same story

It’s that ruthless;

Drug addicts is toothless, turned doofus

Responsible for how the wasted youth is

Who run up in your shop and steal, popping pills

At the house party with a hoodrat copping feels

Fuckin' raw, mentality’s like

Fuck the law, nowadays niggas buck when they woulda snuffed ya jaw

In the city of schemes where money is power

And shots go off at the funniest hour

Now its breaking news, it’s best that you stay awake than snooze

They taking lives or they taking shoes

I jot it down like I’m Langston Hughes

And paint a picture in my good book thats full of verses

That ain’t a scripture nor from the religion

Judges put men under the prison

Them shorties screamin' they riders, but ain’t none of 'em driven

I try to school 'em cause they dropped out, once they popped out the pussy

They mad because they pussy pops out, now they a bastard

Life can be fatal and a hazard, from the cradle to the casket

I’m rightfully raised around a life of crime, snitches dropping dimes

I think of rhymes when I’m in a Detroit State of Mind

Detroit State of Mind

Detroit State of Mind

Detroit State of Mind

Detroit State of Mind

Be having dreams that I’m a gangsta, sipping on bottles of Rozay

Chilling with my out-of-town connect named Jose

Tryna hustle for more pay, police in my doorway

I never have my head in the clouds cause they could go gray

And that ain’t my forte, so fuck a job

Or who I stuck and robbed just the other day

Who’s listening to what they mother say about finishing school

To get they GED, while crackheads is tryna sling an HDTV

For rocks to snort?

The fast life is why the time on ya clocks is short

Even the shorties pulling Glocks from they boxer shorts

Rap sheet be so long that it shocks the courts

It’s why we called the Murder City, tip a stripper then you can purr the kitty

Bad Boys before we heard of Diddy

Word, to Maserati Rick, Demetrius Holloway

And those who celebrate by busting guns on a Holiday

Happy to see another year end and begin

Was told to watch for enemies that pretend to be friends

They hit you with the setup, I seen it all with my own two

The hood is like a glass house the Devil throws stones through

Many are stressed off the Henny or sess

Maybe because the city is built above where Indians rest

In peace, police found deceased, it’s hair-raising like Kelis

D-boys high and workin' they fleece, and bubble geese

I knew this fly chick, pretty right, she was my type — that crack shit

Wasn’t hype, she fell in love with the pipe

She had dreams, of being the next D. Ross of the Supremes

Overdosed in the lot, between the plot and the schemes