Life Gets Brutal - VALAIRE, Misteur Valaire, Heems

I belong to the heart of the city

The city is pretty but the stress gets shitty

Better than the next man save me the pity

Feed me a pita, gas at the Getty

Or the Citgo, mami just get low

If it’s a hit though mami just let go

Mortal Kombat, the beat so Sega

Got a Spanish girl, she look like Vega

Got a Brazilian, she look like Blanka

Japanese dime lookin like E. Honda

Shorty from the tribe she look like Tatanka

Suck it like a lollipop, call me Willy Wonka

Call me Johnny Depp, call me Richard Greco

Lady in the sheets, in the streets she a freak though

If it’s a free kick, it’s a free throw

You know how he flow like Mark Price with free throws

You belong, to the heart of the city

Why you try to play me baby

You belong, to the heart of the city

Why you try to play me baby

I’m Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf

I don’t pledge allegiance I raise the roof, like

Like does this roof need raising?

Phylicia Rashad in the sun like a raisin

These sound like porn because I’m whoring myself

Stack for a verse, now I’m touring myself

Yes, I’m fresh from Japan

Call my connect and I pay him in yen

Budapest, Bucharest to Budapest

He who next, you a pest, stupid mess

Stupid fresh, Hima best dressed

He who do the text, I see through you like mesh

Where we from, life gets brutal

Bury our feelings in bottles of Brugal

I’m been listening to Sisqo

Remember when our friends use to wild out on Cisco