100 Chicagos

I said, yeah, uh-huh Yeah, uh, uh Yeah, uh My dome golden, my heart bleed Madison and Homan Yeah, back to Madison and Kedzie, Madison and Albany We right back into home again Where them dwellings was in buildings Intelligent and skilled until the fellas got the felons in their feelings Yelling to the ceiling Scale again the pelicans is skeletons and villains, oh no No, I'm just rollin', I can't be nice Old money, old money, veterans and millions, elegant and brilliant Ain't no Food and Liquor 3, we on the medicine and killing Off top, free Chip, yeah, uh Generating Zen with some nice sword practice Rest in peace, Virg', LV is Vice Lord backwards A simple flip of the monogram, that ain't shit I had similes on my sonogram, a momma's man Before I was born, I was doing reconnaissance My barber taught me how to chop a nigga with my chopper hand Not at all prophetic, just chauffeurs in Allah's Lexus The realest nigga alive, no prosthetics or cosmetics Might catch the Holy Ghost and start speaking in Nas records, haan-haan-haan Said he came through the town, had the flames on his crown The youth was all excited And Memphis drooped his whole fuckin' name into the ground like Gangsta Boo, what up? Yeah, man, yeah, yeah, yeah That's this, what if rap had a blacksmith? The day you catch me lackin' is the day Farrakhan eat catfish As a catholic, reporting live from the blacklist Accustomed to being this bad 'cause he packed it But if they ask, that ain't my bag cause I traffic See the lights from the O spark, feeling like Austin meets Oak Park A hundred Chicagos, they want no parts He at the MCA, yelling "Go, Art" At the strip club with his eyes closed and throat parched Westside with my whole heart, heart Westside with my whole heart Westside, ooh --- 100 Chicagos - Lupe Fiasco