Lyrics for Dying in My City by C-Murder :
[MP]

(gunshots)
What’s happening money

Damn, n*gga money got blasted like that
f*ck man that sh*t ain’t cool dog
n*ggas just dying in my motherf*cking city bruh
It’s a pity, f*ck it
n*gga was only 14 n*gga
This sh*t real out here, f*ck it check this out player

Can you feel it
Young n*ggas dying in my city
Hey, it’s kind of sh*tty, a motherf*cking pity
Young n*ggas dying in my city
It’s kind of sh*tty, a motherf*cking pity
Young n*ggas dying in my city
Hey, it’s kind of sh*tty, a motherf*cking pity

[C-Murder]
I sit reminscing about my n*gga roe
My n*gga joe died at the age of one four
And it’s a motherf*cking shame
Another thug n*gga killed in the dope game
Young black men dropping like flies
I seen the tears running down his baby momma’s eyes
An epidemic that the world can’t hide
Genocide n*ggas killing up they own kind
Murder, murder, is something that I can’t help
I even had to ride on some n*ggas by myself
I live by the gun, so I’m a die by the gun
I’m paranoid, it got me on the run
Will I live to see my grey hairs
I don’t know, cause I’m getting alot of mean stares
I asked the lord to put the reaper on hold (why)
Cause my young n*ggas dying in the ghetto

Chorus

[Snoop]
What the f*ck is up, in the place to be
Coming out the dirty south, is snoop D O double G
Something for the street, c-murder give it up
9 time 4 5, Magic what up
All the homies who are hard daddy n*ggas on the set
Made the bigger homies upset, f*ck em
Got in a n*ggas way
So we jets and dope spot set appears
f*ck the big homie, his baby momma, and his kids
Who lives and gives to his b*tches on the corner
15 years old, with a gang-bang diploma
Slang cane in Fermona
But now my n*gga game done elevated
So you can catch that n*gga hanging out in a Tacoma
He own one
Da game is to be sold not to be told
But ya’ll knew that, back on that gin and juice, true dat
Two gats, two hoes, diamond rings and a rolls
Nobody know when the doors close
sh*t if I ever come out (come out), I never run out (run out)
n*gga shot the lil homie in the face before he could pull his gun out
15 years old, what a cold way to go out (why, why)
Ain’t no pity in my motherf*cking city, it’s sh*tty isn’t it
But you better mind your business, see we bust
n*ggas like us, sh*t we leaving no witness (believe it)
Real, it’s real my n*gga getting smoked everyday, you heard me

Chorus

[Magic]
Hold on, hold on
I respect ya’ll motherf*ckers trying to come up just like me
n*ggas who say f*ck the police if it’s my time, come and get me
Hustlin since my adolescence
See I’m addicted to face masks and smith & wessons
n*ggas lucky that they took me off the street in time
Cause I was dressin with my weapon bout to lose my mind
But I’m focused on the finer things
Play the game to you dumb thugs that walk the street with no love
Veins fulls of cold blood
I feel your f*ckin pain I get your money n*gga
Misunderstandin create your chances of you dying quicker
Keep your heat under your hilfiger
I bet you knew that was a n*gga
When you least expect it, come and get ya
Now picture I’m up and ready for the bast*rd
I was too cold to be touched, I leave em frozen in a casket
It’s kind of sh*tty, but n*ggas dying in my city
I ain’t even got a piece of pus*y, ain’t that a pity
Chorus

[C-Murder]
Motherf*cking pity ya know
Rest in peace to all my young n*ggas that
Didn’t make it to see another year n*gga huh
Young n*ggas dying in my city n*gga, representing ya heard me